One thing I enjoy most is writing, even when I am not too good in that and also reading. But the so called writers/readers block has once again caught me tight around the neck, nearly choking me and making it impossible to breathe. Is this actually the so called writer’s block or the uneasiness life gives you and you tend to shift that to things you love? I can’t say, I lack topics to write or books to read. But I lack the energy to think, type and make it into a post or pick a book, sit down and actually read it. If only there was a technique to transfer all those thoughts that’s whirling in your mind to organized words… awe… that’s too much to ask for... I know. But one can surely wish, na?
Today morning the news that greeted me was the death of the renowned Hollywood actor Robin Williams. Jumanji was one of the earliest movies I remember watching and recommending to many of my friends. He made others laugh with his movies but he himself was a victim of depression. How ironic! Is life always like this, that it’s not the truth that we see with our eyes but deep down there’s so much of hidden truths waiting for us to ponder down? Who could have guessed he was suffering from depression and one day it would kill him, but the truth it did.
Why are we so conscious about displaying our fears and sorrows? Is it because that’s how the world wants to see us, just the happy smiling faces? Is it because the sadness can make the world cringe their noses that we tend to mask it with a smile? No, I am not questioning anyone. This is just a query to self. No matter what, it is so hard for me to admit that I’m upset/sad, even with people who are non judgmental. Am I trying to be otherwise now? Nope. I did give it a try once or twice but it just made me bitter. So I decided to leave it as such.
Before you seek the light all around you, seek that sunshine within you. That will make you feel warm, loved and so special. And every day of your life can be a miracle. A very beautiful miracle.
P.S. Sorry for been so disoriented. Thought of writing something else, but ended up with this. Do bare with me, please.