Meloxemy; different voices
This is always the question I encounter to almost every moment of my life. I’m sure everyone agrees so in their lives. It’s that complex question…it’s so complicated to answer and maybe just hard to tell it so.
I encounter this one word, this one question whenever something bad went wrong, whenever I did something wrong, suddenly, intentionally, accidentally, unusually, –in whatever way.
Mostly, for me—this question always comes up when it pertains to purpose. It is quite the same number of times being asked when I did something I didn’t want to happen, either it’s not what I planned or not what I meant to happen.
I have always wanted to write in a blog long time ago. I think I started around in late grade school or maybe in high school. I would start one up in blogger, as it was introduced to me by my dad. I was digging it until after a few posts, I stopped…a very very long period of time. I guess there’s just this part of me who’s such a procrastinator itself.
But I always want to write down all my thoughts. Every part of it. Being a multi-personailty at mind, I tend to have more thoughts than the usual mind can say or take rather.
Now, I always write my thoughts in a notebook…or rather, notebooks.I have lots of them. I have a thing for these. I think I was created to love them without any reason. Well, just one thing for sure, and that’s writing.
In this blog, I will write everything. No regrets. No holding back. But I wont keep my promise of showing any identities. When it’s something that serious, I’d like to keep it hidden—make a symbol rather than it’s true name. When I say that, I mostly mean people’s names. Well—yeah…
Although, there’ll be that shift of emotions, tones, beats, voices–all in all, shift of personalities.
So, this is a way for me to escape. To stop all these voices in my head. To give my mind its relief. To give myself a sanctuary of expression without much judgement from relatives and I will never make that mistake of having this blog known. Because anyway, no one knows my complete story. All the thoughts inside my head (which are too many).
My mom always say “You’re too nice, Meg”. Well, it’s true. I hate to admit. After a turn of events in my past, I changed. I am not that “too nice” anymore. I know the limits of being nice to people. Although, the things in the past changed the way I am, of course. It always happens to everyone. Though…for me, it affected the way I talk to people.
The only thing that has never been robbed away from me by my past…was my want to fix people. Fix? Fix, you wonder? Yes—fix people. Yeah, the word kinda’s inspired by the famous song of Coldplay (one of my favorite bands) named Fix You. It actually depends on how close to the person or the people. I am no good at comforting, but still—I want to fix. I want to help. I could not bare the thought of how much my close friends are under such burden or problem.
I care too much for them.
I remember I did one—intervention. Risky. Heart racing. Nerve wracking. Somehow, I hesitated going through it because I’m afraid. I’m afraid that it won’t work out. Even though they said it’s not, I would still say it is my fault. I want to fix. I want no more conflict. Even though I was afraid, I got to take this leap of faith. For them…
I love them too much.
Why am I talking of these? My past? My issues? My fixes? My risks?
It’s because I realized something. And it’s the one, main thing why I wanted to put this blog up. I realized I was always alone. I always let friends express themselves. I always encourage them to tell everything. No holding back. I was always there for them. I realized about myself… Always alone to talk all of my feelings, all of my thoughts, all of my problems, all of my pains, all of my insights, all of cries—-everything. It’s only the person who can understand herself. I have no one to talk to.
When I realized this, I cried about it. I have never expressed myself fully to anyone…but me. Always talking to myself alone in my room. Yes, sad, isn’t it? No need of your pity. It’s useless. If you know me, and you’re reading this. Ask yourself…do you care?
I would always say, “Of course not”. In this century, in this time, people have been selfish…in terms of caring people. Sigh—what am I saying? –Although…how about the ones I try to fix? Do I think you care? After trying to fix you, helping you in your troubles and your conflicts? Do I think I will be given the same treatment?
No…it’s the way how this world plays. I know right?
I just…love you too much. Tears shed and all…knowing what I’m doing is selfless and knowing that never in return…the one thing I know in the back of my mind, I need.
So this blog exists. As I have said, I’ll write every feeling, every thought, every pain, every hurt, every tear, everything as much as I can put words into it.
These thoughts are in my mind. Mine and Emy‘s.
Just want to escape. Just want to express. Just want it all placed. Just want it all out.
Anyway, who would care to read about my life?
well, have fun with the folios…art and all 🙂