By April, age 24, New Jersey
What happens when you become speechless? Literally speechless? Words used to flow through my fingertips as easily as a hot knife cuts through butter. And now? A frozen stick with a knife broken in two. Writing is all I have ever known. Some good, some, well ... better left in the box under the bed. But still ... they were my words, my thoughts, part of my inner soul on paper for the world to see. I've never known it any other way. And now I can't write anything, no matter how hard I try. I've always wanted to publish a book. How can I do that if I can't even keep up with blogging?
Maybe I am lacking inspiration. Perhaps I'm blinded by my own selfish needs. Whatever the case, I'm still left empty.
And yet a million thoughts engulf me every day. My mind is constantly on overtime, and yet I can't take those words and put them on paper. Needless to say, this is a first for me. Not able to transfer my thoughts to literature?
While all this is going on, my brain works harder and harder to keep me unsettled. It leaves me vulnerable ... sensitive ... almost fragile, a slight spider web crack in the glass, but never shattering. Sometimes it's easier to not deal with reality. Sometimes it's easier to be distracted, to get caught up in daily routines - food shopping, emails, cleaning, and anything else to pass the time.
At some point, and there always comes a certain point in the day, the reality hits. For the most part, you're happy. But there's always this little piece. You know what I'm talking about. It's the piece you tuck away inside of yourself, the piece you promise yourself you won't think about, but inevitably you end up doing so anyhow. And the only thing worse than facing that piece of yourself, that piece of your reality, is hearing the reality, hearing the words spoken from another just to remind you of the one thing you were trying to forget. It's not that you didn't know, or that you were so blinded by a delusion that you weren't aware of this reality, but somehow, hearing it and knowing it are two different things. And once the words are spoken, part of you just isn't the same again.