Reality Ahoy!

I decided to make my blog known to a few of my friends. Maybe that is very indecisive of me considering my previous post To Be Or Not To Be, but someone figured me out and it basically dented my resolve.

What are the consequences of this turn of events though? For starters, with every post, I have in mind that one or two readers might connect my thoughts to some relevant aspect in my life. This new dynamic does not sit well with me. Many of the aesthetics in the world are conceived in the dark (imagine photographs), away from scrutiny. So this is by far the most uncomfortable piece of reality that I will have to come to terms with. What is the major implication? No privacy for me – an idea I had earlier so cozily snuggled and curled my toes into. It is now gone with a click of the share button. I now have to grow up and rally a lot more gumption, quickly too – thick skin, upped chin – the works. Basically anything I do or say here can and will most likely be used against me (literally) in a court of law or of public opinion. So yes, I might jeopardize my stakes. I have to now be more cautious about what I put out here.

Then, I might earn the approval of peers, lecturers, mentees, mentors and bosses, or just as easily raise a disapproving eyebrow. It is said we cannot choose our family, but we have the luxury of choosing our friends, and should do so wisely. I love my family and they love me, to shreds. I owe my life to them (after God), so no problem there, really. What I am reaching at here are the intricacies of associations outside my door. We walk out of our homes and into the gates of schools, clubs, churches, work places, acquaintances’ homes and work hard at putting our best act together in order to attract people we had no previous background on. We invest time, money, energy and grammar (LOL!)* to look, smell and sound approachable so as to forge networks that are either monetarily or otherwise profitable; or just to psychologically bask our hearts by the warmth of the idea that we are human after all, that we belong. It is indeed true that no man is an island.

By and by people’s lives are alloyed into beneficial kinships by likeness of mind or interests held in common. Candidness, therefore, can cause paradigm shifts where anomalies are exposed. It often results in reconsiderations of the importance of those who are not aligned to acceptable social patterns in a community, regardless of the gravity of their relevance in society. Prejudices and fall outs thus ensue demoting such subjects back to lower ranks of significance. The higher we go the harder we fall. Therefore, as in every bullish investment, some pain is inflicted with every loss incurred. These and many other inhibitions tousle my mind when I think about writing.

I may have stretched this just a bit too far but I would debate that freedom is in the knowing of the existence of possibilities, in that, for instance, I can rage on without a thought to any consequence – a safe environment that allows for mulling and inspirations. Yet here I am now constantly deliberating whether my next thought would ricochet and slap in the face once published. Not much for a muse.

Whoever suggested that a writer should write from the soul was quite accurate. It is inexplicably liberating – but then again imprisoning; because by word one is set free, yet by the same another is bound** – a somewhat incapacitating oxymoron. Regardless, I am optimistic that I will find my way.

Pen away, would you?

*Laughing Out Loud
**John 8:32; Numbers 30:2; Deuteronomy 23:21-23; Revelation 12:11; Matthew 7:7; Luke 11:9



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