Stringing words and emotions together.

This past week has been a confusing one for me. I have had quiet moments to really reflect on what I wanted in life and the answer was always the same, to write. I must say a large source of that insecurity comes from watching "Magic beyond words", a movie based on the life story of JK Rowling. She went from depending on the state government to one of the richest women in Britain within the span of 3 years. That is admirable. I have never really doubted myself when it came to writing. I love words, I love stringing them together and I love attaching emotions to it. However the real challenge to me is writing something that I don't experience or feel. I guess I am just not the kinda person that can tell a story from another persons point of view. At least, I don't see myself as such.
I have a story though. One that makes me revisit a past that I have buried. I am not good with that. I can't face something that has torn me in so many ways. Regret, guilt, tears. Too many negative words attached to one experience. I can't seem to find the courage to pen that story down though I know that, that is one I want to tell. Living in doubt of yourself and who you want to be is a rather torturous experience, you have to take my word for that. I guess, I am just finding for some solace. For peace within myself and for me to be able to write without having to break down. I gave myself 6 months. And in the deepest corner of my heart, I know that 6 months would not make much of a difference that 2 years have not. Once again, let's wait and see. I am holding on to the little voice in my head, whispering this is possible.

Sometimes the smallest things take up the most space in our heart.

At times I wonder why life is so unpredictable. The things that I used to want seem a little less than meaningful now to me. Right, and you are wondering why am I crapping on a lovely evening, I get it. I had an interesting mid term holiday. I didn't visit any historical place or any relatives. I did not go on a shopping spree and nope I did not have mini reunions. I did not spend my hours immersed in books nor did I really dwell into cooking. What I did was really to put it frankly, waste time. I wasted a lot of time which back then seemed like was a big sin. But looking back now, after the whole cleaning spree I had yesterday I think what I really did for this holidays is find myself. I hope I don't get lost again though, figuratively speaking. Anyway, I feel the need to pen this down today because I think I have finally found something that I have missed. I think that among those boxes that I opened, diaries dating back to when I was just a child written in my big handwriting and the letters of motivation to myself, cards received for birthdays, autograph books and so many more, I think I might have just found the reason I am put on this Earth. I know it, it sounds cliche, people say it all the time. But honestly, it's a feeling like no other. Makes you want to smile all the time, do random things and most importantly not be afraid of being who you are today. Who would have known that when you shoot an arrow of childhood memories to the heart, everything around you changes. Of course the change here is in how I am seeing things but it does make sense. 

I don't know why, I feel different. A better version of myself perhaps and maybe for once in my life, this would last. 

Blood and I am conquered.

I don't know how to explain exactly what I am writing or what this post is about. I feel burdened holding this in and I knew that I had to find some solace and some peace, which undeniably I have found in the past here in my blog. To you who is reading, I am not asking for anything more than a ear to listen. I am not okay. I have not been okay for the last 2 days and it has all got to do with a dream I had. I can't exactly remember what happened in my dream and I don't know why I don't. I am a person who can remember her dream. I dream a lot, trust me. But the moment I wake up, I would remember at least 2/3 part of my dream and it never used to be nothing more than a dream for me. Except for this one. I dreamt of blood. Lots and lots of blood. Blood from the ceiling, from the wall, from the ground. Blood. And trust me, I am getting goosebumps as I type this out. I only remember snippets of my dream, kinda like a bad movie that you watch that you don't want to remember but you do. It's there. Right there in my mind.
I did a little research on what does it mean to dream of blood and it said that I had some sort of deep emotional trouble that I need to get sorted out. That is a problem to me, because I don't know whether I am running from my emotions or I am really okay emotionally. Looking back at how my life has been for the past few months, I wouldn't say that its a perfect life, its far from that but it isn't imperfect. So, what is it then about this one dream that has got me restless? I just, I can't figure it out. And it's there. It's really bugging me. Maybe it is my fear of blood that has made this dream a little more than what it is supposed to be. Maybe that fear is conquering my mind, playing games with me. I just don't know. And not knowing is a horrible feeling.