I had planned to have the following as my 100th post, but then decided to come up with something, which is new to my writing style- a spooky tale, which you can read here (Pass the Rope). Since I had already written most of this one, I decided to finish it nevertheless and publish anyway.
Day before yesterday I completed 100 posts on my blog…Yippee!! I wanted to write this post before since I was thinking to myself how these past three months have been for me. I started off as naïve as Bambi and stepped into the foray with a challenge (Of course, I am proud of it!). I wrote about anything that touched my heart or crossed my mind. Sometimes I even wrote just to fill the day. Along the way I met a few people I got inspired with, a few I appreciated and a few were those who I like to dislike. Don’t ask me who. There are some. And you know what, I appreciate them too in some acute kind of way.
Anyway, I don’t want to trace out my journey to the 100thpost and give it all away. I’d like it if you go back to some of my posts written and give me a feedback on that yourself. What I’m actually arriving at is that as a child when I started reading, I was trained to appreciate the words and the meanings hidden inside the words. It took me quite a bit to understand what was actually said. Also ‘reference to context’ would usually draw my attention since it would give away the impression of the writer/poet and their frame of mind at the time of penning their thoughts. It made me more sensitive to people’s emotions and I always gauged that if I ever decide to write I would be received with the same sensitivity (stupid me!). I started writing for myself very early on. I did a fair job, I think, because I was encouraged by a whole lot of people then.
When I started blogging though, the world, as I knew it, changed for me. I was faced with cynics for the first time! Strange, right? Not for me, because, as I told you, I was trained to appreciate the beauty and so anything that ever came close to not being that was automatically chucked out by my system. I ignored every reason, every thought, every person who was a mudslinging cynic, all my life and now they were staring at my face right here where I am still struggling to find my spot.
Please don’t get me wrong. I like it here. Simply because there are so many others who make life beautiful with their words, thoughts, emotions and sensitivity but there are also those who, somehow, I am presently finding it difficult to push away. I am listening to them, appreciating (not literally) what they have to say yet I find their writing style daunting. I find myself quiet when I feel what I say will make no impact. This is new to me considering I ‘ALWAYS’ have ‘something’ to say!! Now you may shout- IGNORE, but somehow I have a challenge there as well. I can ignore what has been said (I have that quality and I make full use of it) but the written word simply refuses to wipe off my memory. If I read something cynical it keeps bolstering in my mind like hissing serpents. I find myself drawn into the mind of the writer and subsequently I find myself trying to understand what made them write that.
Am I really giving you an impression that I like ‘safe havens’. Well, let me clarify that as well. I like trouble. I invite trouble with loud calls. I AM trouble. And may be, just maybe, this time as well…. I am baselessly inviting trouble. But please, don’t tell that to anyone. Deal?
This post is a part of the Ultimate Blog Challenge, July 2013