I am trying to write again. I stare and this plain page in front of me and think about the multitude of words that I want to say, how I want to laugh at myself, how the dreams I have at night have surprisingly nothing to do with the tears that come in the morning… some mornings, not every morning.
I am trying to organise my thoughts somehow; to feel one emotion at a time, rather than every emotion at once. It is not easy. An internal conflict arises every time and I am left shouting myself down and the one thing my head and heart both agree on and belt out is “You Fool!” I guess that thought is not just voiced at me.
The song ‘Why do fools fall in love’ comes into my head and I consider it has a point, but then I get angry at the happy beat that accompanies those sombre words and I move on to an all encompassing rage that spans from every corner of my soul and I am left clenching my teeth and piercing my palm with my nails and trying to breath it out while my heart becomes leaden in my chest and then cracks.
It is funny how in reality you cannot break something soft. Fimo does not break; it moulds into a new shape. Only something hard can break. So how is it that a heart is the opposite? Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe if my heart truly was open and softened then I could just bounce back with a newly moulded heart. Crack.
You see this is why I have found it so hard to write again.
