So I was surprised when I started writing to others instead of just writing for myself. And I started feeling even more good when I found that I am able to use these place to communicate with people I want to communicate to. And I was shocked when it also hurt some. Because people have for obvious reasons associated all my words with me. I confess, that though all the feelings expressed are mine, some of the words might not be. During the beginning there were some posts that were purely lifted, and in some I mentioned that. And then in some, some memories of something read in past crept in; may be consciously. But not with the intension of copying, and never to put forward a feeling that’s not mine.
The ones that I felt good reading back and I knew cannot be claimed by anyone else, I have listed. The ones I was not clear to my conscience, I didn’t. But as some feelings were purely mine and precisely directed, I might have hurt feelings, and I should and am sorry for that. And I sincerely know how bad it must have felt. And the fault was entirely mine.
As someone pointed out today, there might be people who like to smile and cry with what I write. And I do not have the right to hurt their feeling. The realization was pleasant but also disturbing. This means, now I have to be more careful with all I write. Or may be at least be honest with what I write. They may be broken pieces of my heart or diamond edges of my feeling, but they should not hurt. If there is one word that I dread, its misunderstanding; and can do anything under the sun and moon to set it right. And when I realized that while trying to communicate with one, I am being understood by many but misunderstood by the one, my alarm bells went berserk.
I started contemplating a full stop. Amazingly the moment I decided on that all my inhibitions were gone. I knew now I no longer feel threatened by the judgmental, fickle human understanding, and my feeling came out in a torrent with the words. And they were all saved for future when I get the right audience for them, or may be just for me. And I kept writing and saving and not publishing. Not to punish myself or someone else, but to see if the situation improves. I went into a low; but the eternal optimist won. I saw the moments I treasure, each as one lifetime. I found the gems once more, which I was gifted and never imagined in life that I can have them. So I came back, to confess.
Yes I am human, and not the rain god or the son of Isis I claim. Yes I sell lies as a profession, but here I do not market myself. It’s me, for those who want. It’s my feelings and “mostly” my words except a few. Yes I am sorry that I hurt. And no, I am not here to tell a saga of distress and despair. I will keep on improving; as someone says, “I am daily making myself what I am”.
Up Next BBRR …..