It's been a while since I had a notion to start writing, stopped myself from doing it, lost in thought of pouring out ideas I am imagining of and actually having my fingers to begin typing instead of watching neverending series to keep my mind from straying to social networking territories (which I recently deactivated to have more time on more relevant tasks in life).
Why the hesitation? I am at a loss for words. Words seemed to lead me into trouble these days. Troubles that were not supposed to be present in the first place if I had control over my emotions. Lately, I must admit that I dwelled mostly on the hurt that I set aside other people's feelings while wishing it will slowly dissolve into thin air if I became numb from it all.
I was drowning in my pool of self-pity and bitterness that I forgot where I'm headed. I let the tide carry me from each day to the next hoping that as it comes it will be next to something I can look forward to.
I tuned out people and co-workers including strangers who were possibly waiting for a friendly face who will grant them a momentary attention, a free booster to their monotonous lives.
Most of my life was based on a belief that things are black and white, not shaded with various colors that changed when combined with another or had a different hue on a certain time of day. Colors may change yet they originated from being plain which can never be altered no matter how thick the coating is.
A housemate of mine showed a DIY oil painting to me the other day. Let's just say it's another story that unfolded itself right before my eyes. Each color signified an intensity brighter than I've ever seen them. There is no black and white. There's only bright red, orange, yellow, green and pink. Why aren't there any black or white in the painting? Is it because it's too dull to the eyes? Or it too bright for others to notice?
I might try this DIY oil painting myself sooner or later. Maybe it will let me see what I should have seen a long time ago when I was just looking.