When I feel the urge to write and then nothing comes out when I type, I realize it’s not because I forgot them or something. The thoughts are here, vivid, waiting to be written; however strong I feel for them to be shared, my brain tells me that they will not be interesting. Then I came to a conclusion that there are moments when I write for myself and there are those that I want to please others, assuming that others will have the interest of reading my piece and actually giving a damn about it. There goes my insecure self. There goes my confidence in myself. There goes my self worth. And they are very little sometimes.
I have made huge decisions this year. Some of them made me feel uneasy and the other made me scared. I cannot be certain if I can stay committed to it. What I am certain is that God has a plan for directing me here. I’ll cross the bridge as I am already here. No turning back.
I did not notice that I have listened more to my emotions the past days. Is it bad or good, I’ve no idea. Is it missing the Yoga practice or gaining more weight? Is it studies? I can’t wait to enroll next semester. I found myself no longer in control after losing touch of the things that brought me light. I have stopped believing, and I am on my to cease existing.
There is more to this. I just have to listen. Deeply. Intently.