I used to write. I still do, but it's not quite the same. I used to write more often than I did anything else. A day wouldn't go by without me writing something, anything. Every time my fingers met the keyboard creativity was born. But that has changed, or am I the one who changed? I can't tell, I don't even know what the difference is. Is it that in one scenario circumstances are to blame, but in the other the blame falls on my shoulders? If I am to be honest, perhaps it isn't one or the other -it's both.
The world is so distracting. A mixture of loneliness and abundant stress lead to me acquiring a million distractions. Distractions that soon turned into obsessions that I claim are hobbies, but I'm in denial. The truth of it is that I escape reality most of reality. My days have become a haze of fiction, not the stimulating fiction that used to shock my mind and awaken my brain cells with a hundred different thoughts -the fiction that lulls my senses to sleep and slowly buries everything that is me under layers and layers of nonsense. I don't read as often as I used to, I don't write as often as I used to; I don't think as often as I used to.
Life drove me into a cave of sensory deprivation, but life isn't to blame for how I ended up. The moment I found myself locked within those rocky walls I flattened myself to the earth, accepting my prison and making it my home. I am ashamed of myself, I am ashamed of what I have become and I am ashamed of everything that I have lost.
It's years later, and I feel like I just woke up and what I see is a nightmare. I see just another automaton of a girl, lacking in creativity, lacking in the ability to imagine and living a dull, reality filled life. I see someone I would have once made fun of, or felt sorry for. I see a girl shackled to the ground, born with wings that were rendered useless by years of disuse, and I see that girl holding the keys to her bonds unaware of how to break free. Sometimes the bonds we tie ourselves are the hardest to tear apart.
I will read more. I will watch less and see more. I will go back to appreciating the silence. I will go back to seeing colors beyond the darkness. I will write until it feels right. I will saw through my chains with my teeth if I must, I will do all that it takes and even more. I will find that girl that used to be me, and I will learn how to be her all over again. When this battle ends, I will break free and finally be me.
The world is so distracting. A mixture of loneliness and abundant stress lead to me acquiring a million distractions. Distractions that soon turned into obsessions that I claim are hobbies, but I'm in denial. The truth of it is that I escape reality most of reality. My days have become a haze of fiction, not the stimulating fiction that used to shock my mind and awaken my brain cells with a hundred different thoughts -the fiction that lulls my senses to sleep and slowly buries everything that is me under layers and layers of nonsense. I don't read as often as I used to, I don't write as often as I used to; I don't think as often as I used to.
Life drove me into a cave of sensory deprivation, but life isn't to blame for how I ended up. The moment I found myself locked within those rocky walls I flattened myself to the earth, accepting my prison and making it my home. I am ashamed of myself, I am ashamed of what I have become and I am ashamed of everything that I have lost.
It's years later, and I feel like I just woke up and what I see is a nightmare. I see just another automaton of a girl, lacking in creativity, lacking in the ability to imagine and living a dull, reality filled life. I see someone I would have once made fun of, or felt sorry for. I see a girl shackled to the ground, born with wings that were rendered useless by years of disuse, and I see that girl holding the keys to her bonds unaware of how to break free. Sometimes the bonds we tie ourselves are the hardest to tear apart.
I will read more. I will watch less and see more. I will go back to appreciating the silence. I will go back to seeing colors beyond the darkness. I will write until it feels right. I will saw through my chains with my teeth if I must, I will do all that it takes and even more. I will find that girl that used to be me, and I will learn how to be her all over again. When this battle ends, I will break free and finally be me.
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