I had a few blogs where I used to post pictures with brief stories, poems, collage of lyrics, all of them is full of hidden messages. I was too afraid to write anything. And when I finally wrote it, I never meant it to be read by someone else (ever!) except maybe by Shaun my succulent.
But it doesn’t mean all stories I tried to write aren’t important, they are important. Some of them are even crucial.
Starting today, I have a plan to start documenting my thoughts on real issues in my life, to share some of my experiences. If you ask ‘why now?’, I’m not sure. I agree with the notion that nowadays if we don’t document it and put it online it’s like it didn’t happen, or it didn’t happen beautifully, or it’s not instagenic enough to be posted on your social media and so on. A hollow love symbol under your picture on Instagram is just sad.
My parents told me I’ve never made any efforts to explain my choice, my reasons, my behavior. Because I have my own certain ways to interact with people, they think I hate people. They always worry that I would become somebody else’s pain in the ass on a daily basis because of this. (They really care about my husband’s health too).
Now I’m starting to realize its kind of exhausting to explain yourself with gestures, by avoiding people, avoiding their questions.
I know this plan is not about giving the right answer. It’s about my peace. Besides, I want to share a bit of this and that about my upcoming personal projects.
I still don’t how to start this, how to elaborate my voice. I know I can learn, so let’s be positive.