I woke up today with a heavy heart, an aching head, a confused mind and lost in a sea of hazy thoughts.
It’s been a week since I tried to hide from blogworld after my last post Hidden, for Blog-a-Tonic. I was intent on leaving at least temporarily one of the things I had learned to love most ~ blogging. The only reason that I could weakly advance to many well-wishers who asked me the reason for this drastic step was what may appear a lame one, the one that every writer passes through at some stage – my muse was failing me or call it a writer's block (heck, too highfalutin) or whatever you wish. My muse seemed a traitor to me for almost the whole week. My mind was blank, bereft of ideas, virtually bankrupt.
I realized now how noble were his intentions as he really wished that I get time to be with my real world where so much are awaiting to be completed, so much unfinished on hand and so much to start. He wished that I be closely involved with my personal affairs, have time to hug my precious little baby in the neighborhood who calls me “Mom” so sweetly and innocently, pay social calls, do lot of serious reading that I had given up, spend more time chatting with my precious gems studying at a distant place and devote more to the daily chores in the house when the regular help vanished without notice. And that I can have a balance of the real and blog world if I wished to.
I tried to evade the issue, the endless debate with the voice, the threat and told him I’d rather he slap me on my face to get me back to my senses, but told me he prefers to hit me right where I would be hurt because slapping me would only pain his hands. And while I won’t get back to my right senses, he will keep silent.
My thoughts drifted, roamed like a rudderless boat that kept drifting and roaming in a vast sea, waiting for someone to rescue it. I heard another voice that told me I can’t go on a blog break. The voice told he would miss my post that he was used to regularly. My heart skipped a beat. I felt a lump on my throat when he said: “Thank you Amity, for all your writing. You are on my list of FIRST FAVORITES. (And I don't even link to you, I know where you are.) So, I am begging, just a little writing until you pick back up.” That voice made me sleepless.
Then yet another voice came, telling me how hardheaded I am, and that I have that Icarusian tendency. I ignored the voice. Maybe I even hurt him unknowingly. But whatever he would tell, I know nothing seemed to be right with me then.
Every night, for the past few days, I woke up in a nightmare, like I was in an oubliette, ‘a dungeon’ in layman’s term. I wanted to be out of it and I was crying for help, for hands to pull me up. And I realized suddenly this morning that my dreams were meant to tell me obliquely that when I hid from the blogworld I had put myself in a dungeon. Those hands I was trying to grope for help were the same voices that urged me to get back to writing and be active as ever in the blogworld.
Deep in my heart and soul I knew how lost I was, drifting like a lost ship with my muse playing truant, but though how lost I was, I would still end up to where I wish to be, a place where I tried to belong to and where I am also happy-the Blogworld. I decided that I should strike a balance between the personal matters and the blog world and that running away from either of them was no rational decision. So here I am back with you. I hope the voices, my anchors, are now happy with my decision.
Written for Thursday Tales (Tale No 11)
Also for Three Word Wednesday (Prompts: hidden, noble, roam)
and linked to One Single Impression (Prompts: Icarus, Oubliette)
Photo Courtesy: Sadir89