I don’t know for how long this immense need to write has been kept bottled up, leashed, but I can confidently assume that it as been for a long time. Lately I wake up with this immeasurable and tenacious need to write again, more and more.
For years, I had storms brewing on my horizon, storms that brought rain and wind, storms that brought hot and draught. With time I’ve adapted my inner surfaces, building shelters, caverns, tree houses, mountain cabins and plenty of damp walls to protect myself. And time passed by, and I stopped living. But my heart was still wishing, still hoping, keep believing. And so I’ve casted my eyes to the charcoal sky, my attention held by a golden streak. Then one day, there it was: a crack in the cloud layer where the sun streamed through as fast as water through a cracked dam, and everything I though was lost returned, and all caution were threw to the wind, and all the water restrained inside the damps walls were unleashed and became a wingling river inside of me. And as expected the grass became greener, the birds made their nests, the trees grew, life returned…
I am not sure if this happens to you, but I do love to go back to my posts, and often pick up pieces of them to develop a different direction and perspective. There are days that I do question myself and I do question what I am reading, and it moves me deeply returning to those moments and relieving the feelings…
While writing, all redundancies aside, it feels like I am collecting everything, every piece, every brick, every petal, every stone, every kiss, every memory scattered over the days in one common place; this is my inner foundation upon which I build and improvise, and helps me be whole in life, in each moment.
Sometimes, magic happens! I just come across something I wrote that really moves me, but it’s like someone else took over my body and soul and use my voice to tell me what I just need to hear. That’s it, that’s the transcendent moment, the moment when (any)thing(s) can happen!
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