Falling Slowly

The soundtrack from irish film "Once" remains one of the most beautiful soundtracks that exist out there.

I knew I loved the songs. I just never had the opportunity to indulge myself in something I loved so much (music) lately. Ever since my Macbook died and my phone was stolen. I had nothing I could use to really listen to the tracks I own.

Yesterday, I decided to have a listen again. And without warning, tears started to well up in my eyes. I've always believed music brings you to places of your past which your mind pretends it has forgotten. I was brought back to the time, under a duvet in the cold, watching the film.

Feeling the sting at the ending, wondering what went wrong...or right.

When I was younger, I used to see things in black or white, with no grey areas between. I'm not quite sure anymore, now. Everything's grey. All's right, and all's wrong. We are as right as we are wrong.

Always happy for the future we get, but unhappy for the past we left behind. The past never leaves you.

I think of all the people I've met in my life from time to time. Friends, acquaintances, lovers. And I wonder where they're at now. I wonder what they're doing, if they occasionally were kind enough to place me in their thoughts as well. If they hated me or loved me, if they thought lowly of me, or highly. If they wished the best for me or the worst. If they'd ever want to say hello again.

Empty.

So I clicked on "New Post", and found myself staring at the screen for the past several minutes, fingers ready on the keyboard, but no words to describe these emotions I'm feeling.

What am I feeling?

It's been a massively long time since I wrote. Self censorship is the worst form of censorship. I fear judgment, fear the inadequacy of my choice of words to express myself resulting in distorted messages, yet my complex mind craves to be heard, to be known for what's within this shell - It gets all too lonely to feel 'unknown' by people closest to you. So each time I publish a post on a portal so public, my heart beats that little bit faster. I scrutinise every word, and struggle between lines of ambiguity. Treading on this very thin line, I often tempt myself to switch sides from the one I'm on.

Oh how wonderful it would be if our words can be fluid and free, with readers only ever patting your back, letting out cries of acceptance: "You're not alone! I feel the same! I understand! Oh how very human you are!"

How beautiful and free.... I wish I wasn't so afraid of my own thoughts.