Sunday, November 20, 2011

Know Thyself: Fear

I've always wanted to write characters and stories, and the writer's cliche of 'writing what you know' does hold true.  I think the reason why I don't write as often anymore is because I'm afraid of what I know.  I've had some interesting experiences in life - both pleasant and never-to-be-repeated - that culminate to who I am today and what I have to offer.  I've got loads of anecdotes and stories I can turn into monologues and characters with depth, but it's a personal fear that holds me back.  I'm comfortable with what's in my past.  I'm not too sure if I'm comfortable with sharing.

It goes without saying that time has a way of healing certain wounds.  You don't forget completely, but you don't consistently dwell on it.  These are events to be reflected on, culminating into the person you are today and will shape out to be.  I've rarely met a person without regret, and I know I have a few of my own.  My regrets shape out into situations in my mind like 20/20 hindsight, finally thinking of those right words that would fix everything, choosing the left fork in the road instead of the right, taking a chance instead of passing.

There's much more that holds me back instead of fear, these invisible shackles that hold me back inches from the keys to unlock me.  I can only wish some days I have the stones to dislocate my shoulder and give that push to reach.  Metaphorically, that could be as slight as just getting out of bed in the morning.  Days where your past comes to haunt you, fear and anxiety rising that you've failed before, and you're barely prepared, despite everything you've done to steady yourself and your self-esteem for a new challenge.  It's a tightrope walk without the net, it seems.  There's no way I'm going out there, I can't risk it.  I'll fall, I'll die, or I'll make it and I'll have to do it all over again.

It's a raging battle.  To appear confident in the face of a past that has shaped most into worst conditions at any point in time.  To keep a strong mind and body, diligently keeping discipline over your thoughts so they won't stray into darker territory.  Even more frustrating is the existence of these dark thoughts themselves, how they overwhelm and accuse you of not succumbing to the grief of past mistakes.  It's hard to ignore, like a mosquito in the room at night.

How to cope with all this?  I use the mosquito's buzz and turn it into a sonnet.  The only force that makes me stronger is creation.  It's where I feel the strongest, where I feel I can make a difference.  It's also where I feel I can tell my own story in a safe way; characters representing ideas, fears and hopes.

First, let's get rid of these vampires.

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