Tearing Up Those Old, Worn Pages
I don't know why this virtual space of a blog always comes to mind when I travel. Begging the question, yes I'm on the road back to Montréal! My trip to Toronto was very short and not really that spectacular, although I did reconnect with a friend for one whole afternoon+evening. I knew then that I made the right decision to visit even just because of that.
And given the frequency of the posts, yes one can say that I have been stuck in one place for quite a long while. Being stuck: the very thing I hate. But I have to take that statement back though because it isn't really accurate at all. A friend gave me one of his old road bikes, and I've been biking like crazy. Coming from Montréal, I've biked all the way to places like Sainte-Anne-de-Bellevue, or Chambly, or Mont-Saint-Bruno.
But the reason I'm back in this space is that I'm doing something radical (for me) starting today. I decided to open the space up and finally make this blog official. Writing a blog nowadays doesn't seem very fashionable during these times, but I just have to remember that I'm doing this for me and myself alone.
I had my reasons for hiding it from almost everyone. Previously, this had been a safe space for me to do some therapeutic writing, an exercise that I assumed I needed to vent out, express myself freely, reflect, and stay emotionally/mentally healthy. I needed my private space so I can be anonymous and carefree. It came to a point though that my negativity took over. I was writing like a madman, polluting this space with a lot of my emotions that it wasn't even therapeutic anymore. A friend even told me that my blog might get flagged as owned by an emotionally/mentally unstable person. Yes people, there is a certain threshold to that approach, so don't give me pieces of advice advocating writing as therapy because I know it won't work for me anymore. Trust me.
I guess this is now a turning point then where I need to set boundaries. Opening up this space entails three things: (1) I have to stop impulsively writing thoughts until my mind reaches a better place for me to articulate them better, (2) I have to write meaningful entries...although a bit of complaining can be a good thing as long as I can drive a point towards some better place, and (3) I have to tear up those notebook pages that could compromise my current situation and relationships with people. Yup, I had to check my previous posts and pick out the weeds and bad apples. Traces of those pages might still be visible in the pages that remained, but please just understand that these battle scars will be symbolic for me.
For future posts, I might dabble on my thoughts about a book named Letters of Transit: Reflections on Exile, Identity, Language, and Loss. It is a collection of personal essays written by five authors: André Aciman, Eva Hoffman, Bharati Mukherjee, Edward Said, and Charles Simic. I had the book for about 3 years now, and I usually bring it with me whenever I go to places as this collection tackles a favourite topic of mine. Even bringing it with me is, for me, very symbolic. I'll spill the beans more when I get the chance.
And given the frequency of the posts, yes one can say that I have been stuck in one place for quite a long while. Being stuck: the very thing I hate. But I have to take that statement back though because it isn't really accurate at all. A friend gave me one of his old road bikes, and I've been biking like crazy. Coming from Montréal, I've biked all the way to places like Sainte-Anne-de-Bellevue, or Chambly, or Mont-Saint-Bruno.
But the reason I'm back in this space is that I'm doing something radical (for me) starting today. I decided to open the space up and finally make this blog official. Writing a blog nowadays doesn't seem very fashionable during these times, but I just have to remember that I'm doing this for me and myself alone.
I had my reasons for hiding it from almost everyone. Previously, this had been a safe space for me to do some therapeutic writing, an exercise that I assumed I needed to vent out, express myself freely, reflect, and stay emotionally/mentally healthy. I needed my private space so I can be anonymous and carefree. It came to a point though that my negativity took over. I was writing like a madman, polluting this space with a lot of my emotions that it wasn't even therapeutic anymore. A friend even told me that my blog might get flagged as owned by an emotionally/mentally unstable person. Yes people, there is a certain threshold to that approach, so don't give me pieces of advice advocating writing as therapy because I know it won't work for me anymore. Trust me.
I guess this is now a turning point then where I need to set boundaries. Opening up this space entails three things: (1) I have to stop impulsively writing thoughts until my mind reaches a better place for me to articulate them better, (2) I have to write meaningful entries...although a bit of complaining can be a good thing as long as I can drive a point towards some better place, and (3) I have to tear up those notebook pages that could compromise my current situation and relationships with people. Yup, I had to check my previous posts and pick out the weeds and bad apples. Traces of those pages might still be visible in the pages that remained, but please just understand that these battle scars will be symbolic for me.
For future posts, I might dabble on my thoughts about a book named Letters of Transit: Reflections on Exile, Identity, Language, and Loss. It is a collection of personal essays written by five authors: André Aciman, Eva Hoffman, Bharati Mukherjee, Edward Said, and Charles Simic. I had the book for about 3 years now, and I usually bring it with me whenever I go to places as this collection tackles a favourite topic of mine. Even bringing it with me is, for me, very symbolic. I'll spill the beans more when I get the chance.
 |
| Constantly being in transit. |
Comments