Trading Armour for Pajamas
Well, here I am. Sitting in my room. Looking at a half-empty page trying to come up with words to express my thoughts that don't exist yet or haven't found their 'physical' form in my mind.
I've always been a bit reluctant when it came to writing and expressing through words. I've never been good with words. Numbers – see, that's where I shined. The emphasis should be on 'ed'. I've always imagines as: numbers – my suit of armour, and words – silky pajamas that keep slipping away from my body. You'd feel naked in silky pajamas too if you were on a battlefield. So, my obvious choice was suit of armour. But I guess it is time to lose that rusty armour, put on some nice pajamas and get the fuck away from the battlefield straight to the cozy cottage in the middle of nowhere.
Despite being skeptical about writing, and words in general I've always had this dream deep down in my subconsious mind – to be a writer. To be able to express my profound views on things and situations for the outside world, and my own inside world as well. If there is anything profound in it (which I hope should be there).
See, ever since I dropped out of college I've lost myself. The person I knew my whole life. The person I've been creating brick by brick. It all fell apart the moment depression had stept into my life leaving me with this new person to discover. But alongside with depression came this tule fog. So, naturally, my first thought was to find my old self that used to be there before. But the more I looked for old things to appear, the more I got confused. Slowly I started to realise that there was no old me in there, only something new to discover.
To wrap it up I'd say – don't look for something you've lost, find somethings you've never had.