before, i always find myself at ease with words whenever restlessness and depression fall.
writing instantly became a friend, capable of all understandings. regardless, how illogical and irrational it maybe. it never complaints nor throw any prejudices. it doesn't give any unsolicited opinions nor advises, that were never asked; it only listens. in short, it became my immediate sanctuary.
but lately, i just find it difficult to compose my thoughts. there were countless days and nights, when i saw myself stuck in front of my monitor screen. long hours of stitching words after words after words. just to find myself erasing them right to the very beginning. until i then realized that theres just this uncomfortable feeling that pulls me back, as if i lost faith and trust to them. words were indeed starting to hide from me. as if i was a stranger to my own thoughts.
thus, i just can't help from asking myself if my words have already betraying me? or if they're just trying to teach me on how to reach them once again. but regardless, i just cannot afford this bloc. not now, not anytime soon.
words, how fragile and illusive you can be.