I wonder a lot these days about what it will take for me to write, to get my thoughts flowing and for my ideas to take shape, for my emotions to find a voice. There have been things that seem to be boiling inside but they refuse to find an outlet. And the worst part is, they refuse to make sense to even myself. So any efforts I undertake to put them to words leaves me only confused and lost, case in point, this blog post right now. I am struggling to get it out and I want to let it out. I want to break it out of me, I don’t want to carry it anymore, but I don’t know what the ‘it’ is, I am trying to find that out but I do not know if I ever will. There is also a fear that maybe I do but I refuse to let it come out, choosing instead to repress it. The question is, if that is the case, how long will it stay repressed and hidden?
I remember my thoughts in my previous blog post, it was with respect to a very specific friend of mine, one who has been quite a bit of a trouble, I say trouble, tending more towards the meaning of annoyance rather than as any harmful kind of trouble. But the problem is, it can get pretty difficult for me at times and I feel used and generally treated in a not very nice way and it goes against everything in me to complain because I have always believed that I should not. I have always been of the opinion that everything has a workaround, something so that I can always suck it up and deal with. But there have been times, especially this semester where I really wanted to complain, where I think more than ever, I was reminded strongly of my own limitations. No one wants to be reminded of their limitations, why would you want to know that you may never potentially be able to do something. It is not exactly the most hopeful message out there in the universe.
I think, in my life, I have always functioned on hope, always on the belief that things shall work out, turn around and get better. Especially with things that I really want, things I strongly desire, but recently I have been reminded, again and again, every week, every day even, that it won’t happen. And I think that is what has recently taken a toll on me because is it really too much to ask? I found the word I had been looking for, I have been on a pedestal of frustration, frustration is the word I was searching for. I want to do so many things, I need to be doing so many things but I have not been doing them or when I have been trying, they have not been getting done. It has pushed me into this pit that is weirdly deep and I didn’t fall in but I can’t find the path I took to come in to get out. Is whatever I am saying making sense?
And that’s my memory for the day.