Contemplation

Some years ago I used to keep journals, paper journals, drawn out at the end of the day and then tucked away under a bed or a pillow or a cushion or any sort of bed related object, which always seem like the safest place for one’s forbidden and dark thoughts to be kept away it.

Instinctively, it served as a therapeutic exercise. ‘Has it come back now?’, I asked myself this morning. Admittedly, I for one am in need of self disclosure. It serves me right. However, keeping one online has always come with uncertainty to how I feel about it. ‘Am I uncomfortable with the fact that it is no longer inaccessible by anyone other than myself?’, I thought at first, but decided that it seemed ridiculous to think that most of my thoughts are more absurd than of anyone else’s. I don’t think they are, I know they are.

Online journals, anyway, feel listless. Paper (quoting a friend whom I’ve known for only one day), is alive. Starting sentences, commas, and fullstops meant a whole lot more, had a forceful effect, and the words made friends with the scribbles that lived near the edges. Packing a journal away, ink-curled pages wrapped themselves around me, contained my joy and my sadness and put me to peaceful sleep.

This, on the other hand, gets sort of out of one (hand, that is). I ended up with journal nostalgia when I had initially want to get some of the self disclosure that I was talking about done. This is really annoying because the matter is of obsession, and such matter ought to jump every other line of thought, and so brings me to a sense of self deception rather than disclosure.

Self disclosure: I would rather not have immersed myself into shallow rapids of a relationship hoping they would be deep enough, wouldn’t I? No, apparently, I willed not. One ought to know that the shallow rapids are dangerous, they swift you and they cause damage that is seldom repairable, yet knowingly, with the power of absurd silliness, I decided to have it. This has been widely regarded as not only absurd and silly but also as a really stupid thing to do. This opinion is more likely to be more accurate, I think. However, this is what obsession does, it gives you all, only momentarily, at once and in return of all of one’s other obsessions.

This one is tough, though. I need a stronger obsession to override it.