Sunday, August 20, 2006

The Truth about Me ..

I used to know me a long time ago,
Was I happier then? I still don't know...
I hold on to something so long gone
in fear of what I may have become...

Who is this stranger to me unknown?
Disconnected from me, my insides numb
going through the motions with each rising sun
lose myself once more when each day is gone...

I live my own reality
unaware of the multitudes around me
so far away... to far to reach
shackeld by pain, shrouded in misery,

Who am I? What am I to be?

Simple words... questions deep...
keep me up each night, never let me sleep,
keep me tied to my past, they don't let me grieve
A long time ago I used to know me.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Life's an open book ...???

It wasn't until I started myself that I realized how popular blogging really is among my friends. What is it that makes us write a public epistle under a cloak of anonymity? I'm still trying to figure out why I blog. Every time I think about it, it feels like a chore on my never ending To-Do List. I can never figure out what I should or shouldn't publish. I know I write because there are innumerable emotions I need to express... and to no living soul in particular. That stuff I definitely don't want to publish. Then what remains?

To pen down thoughts and opinions on any and everything and put it out there feels presumptuous and even a tad arrogant. Why would anyone care what I think? One of my friends (and fellow blogger) said "you don't blog because you want someone to read it, you blog because you like to". Really? If it was all about just writing why bother publishing it? I've been writing ever since I can remember but the minute I think of putting a line out in the open I can't think of a single straight sentence. Besides the point that this is my fourth post in as many weeks.

Maybe its one of those things everyone knows but you're not supposed to say. Maybe this is just a way of telling the world that I exist and I go through the trials and tribulations of life just like everyone else. And maybe, deep down, it is a way of seeking approval from anyone who cares to offer an opinion. Of telling the world what I think... And see if anyone cares to listen. Of leaving a mark,however insignificant, which says "I was here too".

Its like that dialogue from the movie Crash (2006) -
"... I think we miss that touch so much that we crash into each other just so we can feel something."

Is blogging our way of reassuring ourselves that we still feel?

Or maybe its a fad and I'm its latest victim...