Saturday 16 June 2012


For a writer they are premium, they convey what we wish to share with the world, they carry emotion, evoke thoughts and share wondrous sights. But what happens when the words no longer flow?? When the idea is there but the way to share them isn't? Where does one go when the words have abandoned them?? For weeks I have sat wishing to write to share to convey my newest adventures, yet the words would not come. I have begun to hate words, words written in a way that make women less, words written by those who don't know or understand what it means to black in America, words that share unfair thoughts and ideas about immigrants and what they are in this country.  Words written on pages that share stories that are both amazing and disgusting. Words which have begun to betray me. I have begun to fear words, the written word that demands that I read it before it's due back to the library, words written on torn out leaves, on trees that no longer stand noble in the forest, but rest on shelves, words that have accumulated and have become accusatory in their own noble way.  Words that have changed my life and words that have no effect. I am suffering from a burn out of words. I once loved reading now I look at the books and wonder...

I have for weeks have not had the words to convey what I am feeling, this sense of loss, or ennui, or disinterest. This steady wearing down of the happy soul. A feeling of failure of loss and unspoken truths.  I have jumped through many hoops to keep this blog hidden from many family and friends so that my words can flow free, unhindered by the knowledge of those whose judgement would stem the tide of flowing words. And yet, without them being here they have taken even this haven. I now understand why those who are gay and in the closet feel the need to come out to family and friends. It's necessary, the closet's air is stale and constricting, it stems the free flow of ideas, of thoughts or dreams. coming out and being true to who you are completely gives you freedom, it may also give you a world without several of the people you once considered necessary but then you learn to live and be happy.

Writing for me has always been a haven, a place to get all my thoughts out and in order, to share my opinion and allow those who needed to know to understand better than I could say it in conversation. I feel stifled without my words, without a way to share. Am accidental hiatus has become a dreaded thing, a fear of coming back to discover all my readers have left. A fear that my words will no longer have a meaning and purpose. I feel cast adrift and alone.

I am lost, drowning a sea of despair and fear, being pulled in many directions, going back to things that I had once thought behind me. I am angry, oh yes I am angry, i am angry because I have to hid in fear that I may not be loved for who I am, I am angry with the world for hating my skin, i am angry because of dreams differed, permanently placed out of reach, of ideas lost, loves forgotten, I am angry with patients who destroy the great gift of health they have been given with drugs and alcohol while those who would love the chance at good health struggle to say alive, I am angry at the Goddess for not answering my cries and pleas for the young children who are brought into the ER with wounds that little girls should never have, for the broken bodies and spirits of women who said no and their men heard yes. I am angry at the politicans who use my rights to gain votes while negating who I am as a woman. I am angry at the young Americans who throw away with both hands golden opportunities that those from other countries would love to have. I am angry at the people who walk past those on the streets who need the help. I am angry that i keep self destructing despite knowing how to do better. I am angry. so angry.

Gods I am just drowning in this anger, but it's not the anger that goads or incites passion, it's the anger that comes before bitterness and belittle the soul, it blots out the shining light and draws you further away into despair.

So I take my time and stay away, I allow my spirit to rest, to find it's way back to let the light back into the deep dark hole I have sunk into. And I push, seeking to get back to the place that I once stood. And i am back here, writing and hopefully sharing in a way that let's this burden become eased just a little bit more.  This isn't depression, it's weariness, it's realizing that which once came easy is no longer so, ad things have changed and I am now required to search further afield for what aides in my happiness, because words written on pages, that shared fantastic stories and created new world seem to have lost their appeal. Wgat do you do when words have betrayed you??

Ever yours


  1. Wishing you to "feel better" can't begin to address how passionately you're feeling a hatred of words and the world around you, so I'll just say, know that there are people who empathize with you. When words drown me out, I either create or mostly find the stillness within me and suffer until something new is born.

  2. I am trying to think of something to say, Aisha that could possibly help, but obviously you must get through this yourself. Writing with full intent to express yourself is a great step in finding your way. I feel for you in all that you have written, and I want you to know that I have complete empathy with you, and I understand. Believe me, I do understand. Please don't give up on words yet. Take a break, of course, but the words are a saving grace in so many ways. Having so much anger also means you have so much compassion and love. The Moon is almost completely Dark...a good time to spend in quiet contemplation of all that is overwhelming you. And as She begins to wax, ask for a rebuilding of your love for words. Ask for release. The Goddess is with you truly. Great good luck, and blessings. Robin.

  3. I miss your writing. Your words are beautiful and touching, even when they are angry. This post moved me- it is great writing, great words.


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