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When I see the date stamps on my last 10 posts, there is one thing I notice (and I am not proud of it), and that is how there are times when I am writing machine, and other times when I am completely MIA months on end. If there is one thing I wish to work on, it is to be more consistent with writing. Good, bad or ugly, just to be able to write. I will try to be better and take more time to write. If I am honest with myself, I can’t hep but admit my non-writing phases are never because I have no time, or nothing to write about or the glamorous writers block, but its mainly because I sometimes wonder what my writing really means to me. Do I write to impact, do I write only as a cathartic exercise, do I have a message for the world.. I wonder.

Like so many people who write, I too write so I can express my deepest thoughts, my fears and my hopes. Writing gives me an outlet like no other form of art (or communication), with no interruptions, with no need to polish my emotions with pretty words, and hope that what I said and whats understood have some resemblance to each other. We all after all live believing that the world around is as we are. But what does it all really mean.

In my 20+ years here, I have had multiple existential (for the lack of a better word) crises. So many times I’ve stopped dead in my tracks just to wonder about what life really means. What it means to be alive as opposed to merely existing, what it means to be in sync with the cosmos, what it means when we get hurt, or when we encounter the ugliness of this world, when we encounter undeserved rudeness, when we are given what we feel was undeserved..

What could all this mean, what role do I play, is it enough to stand my ground when the world is hell bent on telling me I am living my life wrong.

I find myself often wondering about what it is I really want, the life I want, the things, the aspirations, what exactly does this mean to me?

So for today, there are no answers, at least none that I can find within. Only questions which I’m sending out to the universe, with a strange certainty that one day all the dots will connect.

Until then, more questions.. 🙂