I don’t know where to start my routine of writing again after 4 or 5 months, well I’ve stopped writing blog posts as I was in high spirits in my life before so there was nothing murky about which I consider to share it with people. Because most of the times when you’re down in the dumps, you necessitate it to communicate your miserable sentiments which eats you from inside so letting it out is always essential to me in these type of circumstances.
Well, I don’t know why I always say that I don’t know about accurately everything in my life, that’s a bit frustrating as well for someone to listen it again and again. It must have built an consciousness in their mentality about me that I stay perplex every single split second. I don’t know what to say habitually because I really don’t know how to come to a decision that the words I’m going to say, will be acceptable from the one I’m sharing with. Or if I decide not to divide my words with someone, I feel like I’ll lament in the end by not saying and telling people the real genuineness about them.
That’s the same thing with my writing habit; I don’t know, urgh, again. I’m so confused about what should be written or what should be kept underground because I think that only high-quality and beneficial words should be written. So that even the depressing people, out there, reading your blog, must take it as something inspirational or to gain knowledge of something good from it. But at the same time, most of my writings are about broken heart or this damn living for which every human has to fight back through pain to accomplish the contentment in life because that’s what I think all the time. I swear, thinking about having a hope seems like hope against hope to me and that’s the thing that isn’t letting me to smoother my fidgets.
I don’t know but actually here I come and read people’s poems and blogs which seriously enthuses me a lot and you know what, it makes me thankful every time to see people are doing their part to spread something excellent around every corner with their words. But most of the times, I feel like they must’ve fine-looking lives and that’s the explanation of their hopefulness and optimism because if they could’ve seen those people who burn up their crusts in the hot summer to produce a bit cash, those who couldn’t meet the expense to get education, those who died in some bomb attacks, those who doesn’t have the one they love, those who don’t do any struggle but still get the most excellent and many other insecurities and depression like this, will must talk about hope and gratitude to God. You know that’s the reason that I can’t think about optimism because it’s hard and complicated when you’re bounded by these type of people who are just living their lives like this.
That’s why my writing also can’t be positive and will be not capable of making people blissful or to learn something motivating. Maybe by my words, I’ll spread more unenthusiastic and pessimistic and less good but I don’t know again what the authentic need of my mind and life is.
At the end of the day, one wrapping up of this writing which I’ve done after months is that this post makes no logic. I just wrote what the hell I was thinking and I don’t know what I just wrote but still that was a launch again to give my words a seek that they also can excel if they have that capability. But it won’t be about hope, optimism, positivity and encouraging, it’ll be just about gloominess struggle, insecurities, hurt, hopelessness, pessimism and something downbeat so don’t expect good but I promise with myself that I will write from now.