Before reading, please read these words at least twice:
This post is from the deepest depths of my heart, and I probably will never write something again so sincerely and wholeheartedly.
Now go back and read it again if you may.
My main problem lies in those two words: I do not have writers block. I don't. I have something else, not sure better or worse, I just know this thing hurts.
In the previous post, you already read that I have been writing since I was 14, but..never have I thought nor ever felt this way before, never have I felt that words hurt, with the literal meaning of hurt. My words, I hate to think I could write them again, I hate to write them even in the first place - it's a feeling of wanting to suppress everything inside, let it die and rot inside of me, maybe right then my soul will take that battle for me, not my pen; my poor pen and my precious feelings..I wanted to keep them. I didn't want to let so many insecurities outside, they were just too many, and yes, I prefer to call them insecurities rather than any other word I refuse to remember.
When it first happened, that thing, that terrible thing that put all my ease on fire and let me burn with my bruised emotions -- no, I'm not that emotional if you ask me, I just care about my emotions just as much as I care about anything else within me. Back then, my friend Ibhog told me to pray excessively, and that's what I did. I felt like I couldn't do anything more than praying sincerely to the only One who can save me from all of this. I pleaded in every single prayer, I couldn't be more persistent and hopeful that Allah will save me somehow. What on earth was happening? That, I don't know, or it's why I came here in the first place.
About a month and half ago I read a novel I think I will never forget in my entire life. It was about books and words, about writing. The narrator was death, the protagonist was a girl who started writing just a little younger than my young age when I did. I don't know how to explain this, but this novel made me feel like I can't write anymore, as if death will visit me soon, as if I'll just write my last piece of writing on this earth and it will be so influential that the next motivating thing for people to live life truly, will be my death. This novel has cast a heavy black shadow on me. Words, how useless they are, in a world where hunger, politics, corruption, colonization, war and so and so on, acts of severe hostility are everywhere.
I don't know, ever since I felt this way, the day I wrote this quote and then made it a status on facebook, that said:
"I want to die free. I want to die free. Even if imprisoned or enslaved or tortured, I want to die knowing that my thoughts are unchangeable! I want to die free, even if from the outside i'm oppressed and full of shakles and handcuffed. Inside, I'm a slave to none, only an obedient to God..."
This quote is one of the quotes I expressed sincerely and brutally honestly, and I still want to die free. I think about being imprisoned or enslaved way too much, and how would I react upon this, and then I go like "Death, martyrdom, the purpose of life, heaven, hell" and a series of dark yet real thoughts pours itself, with the most burdensome one "in an infinite universe, what am I? Truly? a speck of dust, why is it that we think too much of ourselves?" and in the end I just want...The later life, not this.
But then again come the words, how easy they are, how easy they have always been. This past week, I couldn't think of anything but this, and my words, where will they take me? What about the next word I'm going to say, now, will it benefit, or harm? I'm a writer, I'm a very troubled writer, and I'm a tired thinker. I sometimes wish I would really just give up the process of writing because lately, it causes me so much pain, why? Purposes haunt me. I don't want to be just a writer, I want to be a writer who makes people do. I'm a selfish writer, so please don't read my words in vain, otherwise, please just don't waste your time on my blog.
Yet, I remain with too many written paragraphs, and not a single emotion expressed rightly.
Again, words..
That quote is heartbreakingly beautiful ...
There's one thing I'd like to say first...don't be too hard on yourself.
Have you not considered boredom, that it might only be a state of boredom?
I could hardly write anything for one year and I did not know why, but then, I figured out that I had been too bored of what I used to write that I did not want to write anything any more. Perhaps all you need is change, it can be in the style or in the topics themselves or any other thing, change really helps.
Also, please stop thinking of yourself as only a speck of dust. It's true, we all are small compared to that huge universe we are in, but we are humans, with minds, and minds are the mightiest power in the entire universe. One mind can change everything.
And trust me, the only thing that is of use in a world of corruption is words.
There's so much truth and hurt in your words, I'm glad you took time to pour it out even if there's so much left unsaid. May Allah heal your soul and give you strength.
Take your time. This shall pass, inshallah.
@Nothing-but-ordinary, thanks =)
@Maha, I've often been told I'm too hard on myself, yes, but it's the only way I get by so that I can teach myself, since even the hardest circumstances don't find their way into teaching me for life.
You're right, I am indeed bored as hell and I keep considering changing my job, my way of thinking about too many things. And I've already started acting upon it elhamdulellah.
A whole year??! I think I could die in the meantime :D glad you're back though, may we never lose that beautiful touch of inspiration that Allah has granted us with =)
The speck-of-dust way of thinking is only so I can live not thinking too much of myself and my ego would kill me, I did not mean for it to be the pessimistic kind of speck of dust though.
Thank you honey, your words are always wise and meaningful to me =)
@Noor, I kind of regretted pouring them out because I always try so hard to supress all the sad emotions and feelings so that my job would be spreading positive energy, but I guess that's YOUR thing =)
Insha'allah it will, I know it will (:
<3
I'll do it gladly, but know that venting is good for you. I know at the end you feel as if you've made it sound worse and you're afraid you're sounding ungrateful. That's what stops me from venting in words, but I respect people who have the ability to do so. Letting it out is good, you feel a bit free-r of those negative things that tie you down. It doesn't change much at the end, but it's all you can do at times besides praying.
<3
Hey Nema, someone just reminded me of you while having a chitchat last night, how are you doing sweetie, I am having a new email addy, btw, I dont know, just holla back however you want to do it.
Onto the quote, I thought that was truly heartbreaking, why heartbreaking if you ask?, I could feel the depths of your soul, (and yes, I refused to say--the depths of your despair(?)--).
Anyways, I hope you're keeping well, I miss you! ---its me , myryn---
Myryn! Oh god, It's been so long. I miss you too girl, I hope you are well. Please email me with your new email, mine is here on my profile, just send it. And may I ask who reminded you of me? :D