March 12, 2012

  • Writer's Block 8 - Nothing II

    Sometimes I want to write.

    I want to write so many things. I want to argue endlessly about politics, I want to wax philosophical, I want to create poems, I want to paint stories, I want to write about everything.

    It never flows though. So many times I have stared at a blank blog page with so many things to say only to close the browser with nothing said at all. 

    The only thing that comes easily is my anxieties. My worries come to my fingertips and to my keyboard as a bee to honey. It's all I can write about nowadays. Sometimes its tiring, looking at entry upon entry of angst and loneliness only to write another entry about the same exact things. 

    But that's all that comes. Daily life is too boring to rant on about. I don't even want to hear myself talk about work or school. It's all so boring. 

    The real turmoil of my life had ended for now, and I'm again faced with my old demons. Lately though, I've realized something important.

    I'm scared. 

    I'm scared to get close to anyone new. The friends I have I keep near to my heart, and those on the periphery stay there. I want them there, because it'd be awkward otherwise. 

    And maybe that's my problem with blogging.

    I still scared to let this place become something else than it has been for the last few years. A place where my lovelorn life comes to words. 

    What was this place to me before?

    When xanga was popular and my real life friends were on here, it was a place of socialization, just like facebook. Now what though?

    My xanga is now a place visited by few, an island in the vast sea of other blogs. I like it that way, really I do, but what has this place become to me? Rather, what do I want it to be?

    A dairy? A vent? A point of release? A place to make friends? 

    This shouldn't be a difficult thing to decide but it is. 

    For today, let me just talk about my anxieties once again. 

    But today, I'll make it short. 

    I'll make it very, very short.

    Because I don't want to write another entry about my lovelorn life. So I'll limit it to a few sentences:

    The thought of being with anyone scares me to death.

    The thought of being in a relationship is terrifying.

    Has it really been that long since something meaningful has happened?