Late thoughts
A long time has passed without filling some lines over here. One can always find a good excuse for procrastination. But now, I prefer to go clean and talk about fear. Fear and compromise.
I hate doing things for compromise. Best moments in life come from what comes from the heart, without attachments. And I would hate that writing would become precisely that: a new chore.
Somewhere, in my previous posts, I stated that I use writing as a therapy (or didn’t I?). It’s a therapy to face complex ideas that go through a troubled mind struggling with building a new life from the fallen pieces of what was.
There comes fear. Facing those pieces on the blank screen, at least the deepest ones, was a relief. But then, somehow, it started to become a bargain. A loan that forced me to think about topics I quite not understand. That freaked me out.
But today I felt the urge to face it again. Maybe it’s all part of a strategy built by myself for finding my mojo again. Or maybe it’s just that inner flame that urged me to put some thoughts together and throw them as a bottle to the sea.
Regardless of the motive, I just wanted to let the letters go and find the one thing that remains: while I’m convinced that I can do this all, I’m not quitting. Nobody remembers the quitter. It’s all about being memorable.
