So for some reason, I decided to read through my blog. All 59 posts in the past 10 months. Hmmm. I actually write too much but, that’s really not the point of this new post of mine.
I honestly believe the spirit of writers block is beginning to overcome me. I reject this (many thanks for your resounding amens). Majority of my posts seem to revolve around the same topics. Hate, love, pain, resentment, running away, fear, rejection, uncertainty. That’s a long list of topics so, why am I complaining? I’m not. I’m actually unsure of what this post entails but, read on.
Each one of my post tells some sort of story about me and this twisted series of events that I call a life. In most cases, it’s just a few lines in every poem. On very rare occasions like ‘just a few thoughts’, ‘semi-personal and ‘love st’, it’s a lot more than a few lines. That however is a secret so, be sure to keep that little piece of information to yourselves.
This may be up for debate but, I believe that my style of writing has changed in one way or the other. My level of honesty, choice of words, debt of writing etc. The intensity of emotion oozing out of each poem varies and for some reason, I’m beginning to sense a little bit more feelings. Hian! Wahala ey? Maybe.
I read my earlier write ups and I see certain people’s names stamped all over it, I see past events reoccurring, I see the emotions that I used to feel for said people. Most of all, I see fear and worry and unnecessary stress. The struggle to get noticed. The struggle to appear confident and attractive. The struggle to evade emotions. The struggle to not struggle. I see a hurt and mentally wounded A. I see the poor, infatuated girl that I used to be. Hallelujah, I have been delivered. I’m a big fan of change unless it involves someone I love moving 6 hours away from me. So, my reason for being happy about this attitude change of mine is apparent. I used to think and worry so much. I was afraid of being not physically but, emotionally alone. I was afraid of becoming too attached. Afraid of rejection. In the past few months, everything I used to dread became a reality. I was faced with my biggest fears and I had to force myself to overcome them. I had to deal with the loneliness on the outside and the loud voices on the inside. I had to learn how to accept rejection. I had to fall…hard and embrace new feelings. I basically had to permit my spirit to grow up.
Now I look back and I don’t regret letting go. I don’t regret writing any of my previous posts or any of the names behind the post or the emotions that I felt. I don’t regret what i did, who I was or who I have become. I’m just grateful in more ways than one for the enormous change in my life. Well, that’s what I like to believe…that’s what I like to tell myself at night so I don’t have nightmares. That is what I say out loud so I don’t have to reply complicated questions. Complicated? It’s always complicated.
A few days ago, I got a new phone for free thanks to my one year warrantee. I was happy for the first few hours, admiring my brand new apple product that I got at no cost…NO COST AT ALL. But then it hit me. I don’t exactly know what ‘it’ was but, it hit me real hard. Pain, regret, the feeling of nostalgia etc overcame me when I realized that all my recent pictures, my messages and my notes were gone. At that point in time, I didn’t care about my new phone, I wanted the old beat up one back. Now I don’t know about the rest of you but, I get really attached to things. A lot of the time, these things are useless to other people but somehow, I manage to hang on to them.
My messages: Shouldn’t really be a big issue because there’s never anything useful there but, I’ve had conversations with many people from the past and even though it was so long ago, I feel like that’s my only connection with them. The words I said, the moments I laughed, the jokes we shared, even the times I flirted with a selected number of them. I don’t usually go back to read messages but, I felt like if one day I had to, I wouldn’t be able to. I wouldn’t remember how it was or how I felt in the past. Deleting messages = Deleting memories.
Pictures: There’s no deep reason for being attached to my pictures. At first I thought it was cause of Instagram because it can pain when you take a perfect Instagram picture and someone deletes it. I just feel like deleting pictures = deleting the past because regardless of how fake and misleading pictures may be, each single photo represents one line in your book of life. Each picture tells a story which is open for interpretation and if there are no pictures, there’s no story, there’s no past.
My notes: This has to be the deepest because I have over 60 notes and I never let people read them. There’s no mystery or big secret in my notes but, it’s like a mini documentation of everything. Things about me, other people, my moments, our moments etc. It’s all written in a way that only I can understand. I read my notes and I see who I was, who I am. I read my thoughts, I feel what I felt, I touch the people that touched me, I’m placed right on the middle of those situations, I relive my emotional breakdowns, my terror filled nights, my past. This shouldn’t be a good thing seeing as it prevents me from moving on but there’s not much I can do. It’s like not being able to stop yourself from being attached to the person that you love.
So, when I while I was busy lamenting over the loss of my notes, my NinjaNinja decided to come and talk to me. I wasn’t listening to him at first until he asked me a question which went something like “Are you attached to your notes or the people they remind you of?” Deepest question isn’t it? The fact that this came out of my ninja’s mouth hurt me. If this is how he felt about me then, surely it must be true.
We all go through life getting attached to one thing or the other. Attached to smell, people, sensation, feelings, certain seasons and we aren’t aware of it. I’ve spent the past year of my life being attached to a lot of things including the single most disastrous incident in my life and despite the fact that I said I was over it in ‘I’m a dreamer’ https://thebeautifulbeastinme.wordpress.com/2013/02/08/im-a-dreamerrr-a-distant-dreamerrr/ I realised today that I’m not anywhere near getting over anything. I don’t know how many people hold on to things that hinder them from moving on but I really hope I’m not the only one. It’s not a good thing obviously but, I’m going to have to work on my ‘moving on’ technique and I hope you do to. It’s amazing how one single question can change a lot and almost make you a new creature.
On the outside, I look the same. Forever smiling at people that hate me. Never forgetting to laugh at jokes that are everything but funny. Ensuring that I go for as many rockies as my free time permits me to. Studying like my life depended on it etc. I just feel like I have a new spirit now. I’m learning to only bother about things like school work, the chances of scratching the screen of my phone, what I should get ‘nke m’ for his next birthday. Irrelevant things tbh but, I can control these things. Waaaaaay better that my previous worries like **what friend is going to backstabbing me next or **What job my future husband is going to have
My mum always says something that sounds like ‘ There’s no point worrying or thinking about things that you have no power over. You’ll just end up over stressing yourself and looking older than you are hence, no husband for you’. I don’t know about you but, I don’t want to be husband-less forever.