Throughout all the conversations I have had, whether on the phone or in person with people close to me, I keep hearing the same phrase over and over again: “You should go out, go back to work and do something about your life.”
I know very well that I have to keep moving. I have to keep going no matter what. Many are the days when I feel frozen and strained inside. Many are the mornings when I try to hide from this world by just sitting in my room and reading. And every time my body stops moving, looking or thinking tears well up inside of me and I am sad and angry. And on those days it is impossible to anticipate anything, to imagine anything. And on those days I just want to give up and think that it is better not to try to do anything with my life in order to preserve the void that I am living in right now.
When I think of all the conversations I have had so far with my friends, I only heard one of them ask the other day: “Are you ready to face the world?”
Am I ready? I ask myself over and over again. Am I ready for what? I want to think that I am up for it again, but I feel reluctant and afraid. I do not wish to live emotionally anymore for I am still too tired. I am afraid to take that one step, that one move that I very much fear would be false and I would have to bear the consequences.
Elizabeth Berg writes:
“You can only have true vision when you look behind. A person can slide so fast into being something they never really intended. I wonder if you can truly resurrect your own self.”
If only I did not have this strange feeling that life is somehow or other going to blow up again for me. I know I will never have that sense of happiness that we feel as children. Do I then choose to sit and look back? Or do I resurrect myself knowing very well that for me as well as for some people the choice is taken out of their hands?
Life is beautiful but the world outside is horrible with all the hunger, the poverty, the killings of innocent people, the madness. I have had my share of war and misfortunes. God knows I have more than enough to remember and write about. I can’t chase away all my memories. And I am tired of running away from them. No I don’t want to go out. I only want to stand aside from life and write.