Spiraling Thoughts

I didn't think I was going to write anything this evening, it's hard to write when you're crying so much you can't see. (Yes, I did, just couldn't help it. And I don't care what other people might think either; if I feel like crying - I'll do that. Actually had my neighbor sitting next to me on the bus, and he must have wondered what all the tears were about. He was vise not to ask though.)

Anyways, writing might help. But I'm starting to think I'll have to write something longer, fuller, more substantial than posts in this blog. Not that it's anything wrong with blogging, but I have so many thoughts fighting for space in my little brain, that there's hardly room for new ones. Metaphorically speaking of course, 'cause your thoughts never really leave you. They only need to be worked on, organized and being put into the right file. And if labeled correctly, you can access them easily at any time.

Usually I have some sort of plan or idea when writing, but tonight not so. There's "only" this rush of emotions and I'm struggling to keep it together. And I'm also struggling with my "split personality"; on one hand I'm this constantly analyzing person who argues and wants proof for every incident, and on the other hand I often more than willingly go for something just 'cause it feels right. (Sorry, this is really messy, but then again, so am I, so what can you expect?) Plan or idea? Right.

I said earlier tonight that I felt I was repeating everything I think and write. Same things over and over again. But isn't that how everything always has been? Homer, Shakespeare and Murasaki Shikibu, they are all guilty of writing about what people do. Love and fight. You can find it in The Book of Thousand and One Nights as well as in the Edda. Poems and music has been written on the same themes for centuries. But unless you copy something, there will always be a new element, a new insight or another perspective. That's what it's all about. Someone expressing a feeling or experience in a way they know. Pure therapy, and lucky for the rest of the mankind not all people who are dealing with any kind of emotional trauma, or plain happiness for that matter, work through it by jogging 20 miles through the woods.

I also said I thought I was getting immune to pain, having had too much of it in recent years. That wasn't true, I'm afraid. Or actually, I'm glad, 'cause you can't exclude the feelings you don't want in favor of the desirable ones. And I refuse to let myself go hard and cold, I rather deal with the pain. Blah-blah-blah. It's just words, ain't it? And I don't have a clue...