untitled for a reason

Today something inspired me to write. Maybe it was the feeling of impending doom, mixed with misplaced excitement about the new school year starting next week. Maybe my To-Do List was the inspiration- after weeks and weeks I can finally cross "update blog !!!!!!!!" off the list. Maybe it was the concerned phone calls or confused conversations I've recently had regarding my absence from the writing scene.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was that little thing within me that propelled me to start this little project in the first place. That tiny, almost inaudible voice that reminds me time and again that I simply do not exist as who I am without this outlet. I have forged an identity, I've had opportunities to share what would otherwise have been kept bottled up in me, and most importantly I have been reminded that if you actually believe in what you do, the sky cannot even limit you- all through my writing. Writing has kept me sane and grounded, giving me a sense of purpose and a sense of escape from day-to-day realities.

So what exactly has prevented me from updating my blog since July? It couldn't have been time limits- indeed my break from school, reduced work schedule and long nights spent awake would have been ideal for logging on now and then to write. Clearly, my choice to neglect this project over these past couple of weeks is something fueled from within.

Writing to me has been like your typical love story, full of ups and its share of downs (and anyone who knows me well enough knows I'm a failure in the "love" department). It has been like an honest, spontaneous, unconditional lover that helps bring out the best in me. It has led me to pause and honestly reflect on aspects of my own life as equally as I muse about the world around me. At the same time, I've seen the reproachful, critical side of this lover who constantly forces me to face my innermost thoughts, feelings, fears, and insecurities.

But this doesn't mean I should ignore this huge part of my life like a bad ex you avoid at the mall. That simply isn't even an option, because I LOVE writing. I love it because as much as I have shown my true self to it, I've allowed it to see Me from the inside out- a "privilege" I have long held back from my own loved ones. And because of this, I see my personal writing not so much as a task or chore or something I have to get over with, but a natural reflex to seeing someone's innermost being- mine.

That must be what led me back to this direction.