Fighting through an author's block is never a good battle, one has to usually squeeze the juices to come out, rather than it just flowing. To push what refuses to come on its own, can lead to disastrous outcomes. However, I am going to try my luck, and push to the extremes. If I get to write past this paragraph, it was meant to be, if not, then a draft.
Although a lot has been going on lately, yet I have never felt the urge to not to write about anything that much as nowadays. Days just come and go, the only thing that reminds me of their passing by is my alarm clock. I do not smile that much, and I don't contemplate either. I am just living day by day, waiting for something to catch me off guard. For two weeks or so, nothing had happened, but today. Today was really nice, today was special. When you make a wish, and the Universe suddenly smiles down at you, rewarding you for your patience, for your sadness, and for baring it all silently. The Universe is really beautiful when she decides to be so. You get good news that console your bad ones, and bad ones to remind you to always stick to your roots and never part with them. For, in the end, that's your place, where you truly belong, the comfort zone.
Regardless, me and my Universe are trying to find closure, a treaty, where both can co-exist without hurting one another. I get to try to observe and take in my surroundings more, contemplate about myself and my future. I get another chance to reconsider my writings as a daily ritual that is to be never ignored again by myself. In return, the Universe is ought to be generous enough and to simply let me be till I screw up; at this point, she gets to go all Karma on me.
I usually start these contemplations about myself and my growth rate. I calculate how my mind works, try to chase the stream of consciousness till its very end and analyze it. The result is most likely a puzzle with a constant missing piece. Yet, the irony of that missing piece is that I know exactly where to find it, and how. I just do not want to. There is this enormous grip that won't let go of me, I let it take over me, I don't fight, not even in my worst days and darkest nights, I just don't. There are no clashes between the black hole and myself. It is the monster in my closet, as long as I am keeping my distance, it is not coming after me.
My Monster is one I have been nourishing ever since I was 10 years old, and wow today has been 11 years, such a beauty she is, such power and such a pathetic little owner. Big talk, no action, I used to be the voice of feminism, I used to counter-argue my opponents with logic and sarcasm, now I have shrunk to nothing, a mere teacher talking on and on about something she knows is not of that great benefit to her students. She knows she cannot inspire them. She knows she does not have what they need, but she is working, as if defying no one but her inner logic, that this is not her destiny, her job, her future. She keeps postponing the day of her resignation, hoping that a miracle would come out of the blue to change her mind. Until then, she teaches in that really boring, old-fashioned way. The same way she has been taught throughout her years of studying. The same ways and the same techniques she detested so much, now she applies them. What a shame! Such a waste! Her alter-ego cannot even fight, she only pities her even more, adding salt to insult.
Her Monster is powerful, because she lets her be so. Her power is inspired by the woman's passion, grief, tranquility, happiness, and sorrow. She is her ID. She needs to be stopped, but "now" is never the right time. "Keep feeding yourself these lies, how you can demolish her in a matter of seconds!" "You lie, she is unstoppable, you know it as well as we all do! She is to be the reason for you misery, the reason for your hate. She is to destroy you. Soon!" The voices in her head battle, they keep getting louder and louder for her to listen to them, to any of them, yet she does not. She simply drowns herself in music, she stopped contemplating. "Rusty doors are not meant to be opened in broad daylight." She tells herself.
For now, she is documenting, she does not really understand what is going on. She has managed to isolate herself from herself, from the voices, she is to document and document alone.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ASj81daun5Q
Lady H.
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