I don't write anymore. Correction: I can't write anymore. It's not like I'm completely thoughtless. Sometimes, it's exactly the opposite. Sometimes, I have so many thoughts that they collaboratively push me towards anxiety. I have thoughts, just no words for them.
What I choose to believe is that my heart is so scared to address the thoughts my brain is thinking that it wants them to remain unspoken and unwritten. As if giving words to these thoughts would turn them into a reality that I'm not yet ready for, in mind or in body. I believe my own heart and soul are trying to protect me from myself, from everything I think about myself, I know about others, and from everything that I feel, have felt or might feel from the acknowledgement of my thoughts.
Sometimes, I want to cry, and I do. Other times, I want to write, but I can't. It is weird how easy it is to cry than to write when both have equally been my vents in the past.
Words often make things complicated but they have mostly come as a release, as a relief to me. It is an unfamiliar feeling- not having any words any more. Maybe it is true, maybe they are meant to bring tragedy now that they have been suppressed for so long.
What I know now is that I can't speak either because spoken words are a chaos and written words are chaotic. And for once, I'm ready to address the chaotic without inviting any more chaos. Give me my words back.
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