Sins of ...

I can't get myself to write out the rest of the sentence. What a horrifying thing this is and I am well, repulsed by myself.

There is just...confusion and hell in future of us. Well this is why people say the stupid shit they say and now, I have become one of them. How befitting. Well, I guess it's better than knowing the alternative. I think that would have even been more heart shattering. Though, I guess since I won't be going through that, I'll never know. It's easy to make judgments without knowing the other side. How ignorant of me.

That's really, truly I can say: How ignorant of me. I just never had foreseen such a catastrophic conclusion, result, end...I just never even once thought that this could truly, really happen. I mean look at the statistics.

Ah, this is just not going to bode well for me. I can tell the next few months are going to be difficult. From decision making to, acting, to solving and the after math. It's just going to be heart wrenching. I never thought I'd be in these shoes. Never. Not in a million years. Well, it has definitely made me more humble. I just don't know if I needed this to be more humble. Such a horrifying way to become more humble.

Everything has sunk in and all I can say is, Oh My Goodness! Whatever am I going to do now? How can I?

About That Writing

I keep wanting to get up and write. I want to write badly and at the same time, interestingly enough, writing down a line seems like far too difficult, heart wrenching activity that I just can't seem to be wiling to put myself through it. Blogging is the only thing I can seem to manage through and that's just sad. There are so many writing exercises that awaiting to be done, books to be read and stories inspired by those stories waiting to be just written. The poetry journal is begging me, those egging feelings are just ripe for you to splash them against the white, ruled pages.

But, I just can't get myself to write. It's like I've thrown everything writing related in a black box and have put it away for now. Holding a pen feels so foreign. I think there is officially something wrong with me.

There are so many dangerous emotions and thoughts that I had to silence, I think I am afraid that once I start to pen them down, that will be the end of it and I just won't be able to function as the rest of society.