Finding my melody again

I haven’t published nor written anything that is consumable for the public eye over the past year.

The last time I let my pen dance on paper, it was leaning a little bit towards the rhythm of darkness, somewhere in between the lines of emo punk and grunge — along the themes of insecurities and betrayal. These aren’t my genre.

For a while, I shut down, lingering in that corner of “I can’t anymore”, all curled up like a helpless kid. And I guess something about this particular state just drains out every bit of life you have in you, including your passions. In my case, I lost the music of writing. It’s incredible how pain and sadness can make your world silent and loud at the same time — how they push you towards what may seem like something, but it turns out to be nothing. And you don’t even realize it right away. It’s funny how humanity has this gift of consciousness and logic which is supposed to make us superior over other species, but it’s so easy for us to drift away into an absence of meaning and just plain existence.

In my case, it took me more than half a year again to make use of that gift again. And when I did, I still didn’t feel ready to get into the tune of putting words on paper again. When I tried, as I said earlier, it was still quite dark. And that was not me. I write with rainbows. I like to leverage chirping bird kind of happy in my literature (if you can call it that).

Now, my life has become filled with novelty again, a new sense of adventure. Maybe, it’s the healing…