Writing

Writing: A bit redundant. I should expect it to be fairly obvious that many people on this platform would talk about writing as their creative outlet: a place to release their thoughts into the world and have people relate to and/or sympathize with their struggles. Sometimes the news of the world and everything that happens around us humans gets us down and we are just lost into the darkness.

*inserts something cliché about only when there is darkness can we acknowledge and witness the true beauty of the light within*

I have to admit, writing has gotten me out of my darkest moments before, but it has mainly been a self-mediating process where I write out all that has been bothering me up to that moment and it gives me a place to vent. However, little to none of these journal entries and rants end up being published. Why? Of course because of the reason being of the fear of being looked at a certain way and criticized for voicing my opinions. Also the fear of rejection is very, very real. But even with all this knowledge, I still would like to try. I would like to try writing.

I would like to give voice to my thoughts finally and not just keep them inside of myself where they will do no good but do no bad either. In fact, maybe the act of not doing anything would be the most beneficial to the world. Humans are such miserable, cruel creatures but I cannot dwell on such things for it is too human to also try to change things to things that don't need changing or to things that cannot be changed, that refuse to be changed.

Change is a part of all of us. You either change with the world or the world changes you. But why should writing matter?

Because writing is a record of all that is and all that came before. It is our history that connects our past, present, and future. It is the bridge across time to see how much humankind has progressed or even how much humankind hasn't progressed. For every step forward we take, it seems like we take two steps back. How then, do humans ever progress and move forward? Spontaneity and chaos. People nowadays think that chaos is the opposite effect of what we as humans, want to achieve as a society. However you cannot deny its involvement in allowing humans to recognize what is truly important to them and what they are willing to sacrifice to protect. Chaos is the beginning. It is also the end. Before there was light and darkness, there was chaos. There is meaning in chaos, there is matter.

If writing is a record, then I shall record this chaos and be its scribe. Chaos shall guide my pen and and my mind. Is it worthless, meaningless to put some meaning to chaos? Or maybe what I am recording is not chaos at all, but madness, I know not, my mind is in a haze. This blanket of mesh covers my eyes and fills the recess of my brain. I cannot dislodge it. It is far too late. Am I writing about our end or our beginning, it matters not. I will continue writing... It is all I know, it is all I have ever known. What am I, who am I, I feel like I have been here for many generations... Someone, help me, find me, somewhere, sometime. I am lost and only the lost will find me. I have been here for far too long. The way is shut, I cannot go back. The way is shut, I cannot go forward.

Who was I before all this, I remember and yet I don't. Something is preventing me. I wanted to be someone sometime ago... Yes, a writer. I seem to have made a statement, but I do not quite remember that either. Oh well, I guess in the end, time changed me.

I. Am. Time.