I truly believed I was alright. Till I unconsciously revealed the inner thoughts in me to another. "My alter ego gets carried away sometimes", has always been my convenient excuse each time I made such a mistake.
But more concerned than impressed, a fren asked, "Do you truly believe your heart and mind has the strength and capacity to store the emotional stories you've written mentally?"
I paused. "I do write them down... sometimes. But many a time the entire writing process proved to be too emotional for me to handle. There's something about writing in a book and seeing, in front of your very eyes, the letters, being handwritten to form words that only served to add gravity to how I feel."
"What makes you think that by keeping them to yourself, you're not weighing yourself down?"
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g3 babe, I'm sure you'll be happy to know I'm giving blogging a chance. Back from my short trip, I shall take my time to release all the "months worth of diary entries in my head" - words that I strung up mentally on my bus journeys... and slowly revisit my scribbles on scraps of papers.
Perhaps this will untangle all the knots in my heart and mind...
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