Growing up I always wanted to write a story for lack of my own.
But my affinity with letters took my creative writing on a different journey; I began writing to people and things and addressing songs and movies. By way of that, I found my muse in words unspoken, and addressed my love for letters as just that: words unspoken.
From a reflective point of ponder to a curious case of questioning, my letters all carry a trail of “Perhaps” – exploring possibilities, uncertainties and suggestions – It’s a form of grey area where nothing is too definite in this form of confessional expression. But starting with such ambiguity leads to a trail of unanswered unknowns; words sent out with nothing to ricochet off. It is a trail I pursue with no result.
For far too long I’ve been letting letters lay; unknown, unopened, unconnected and to no effect, collecting dust like an archaic mosaic. My “Dear Nobody’s” and “Dear Somebody’s” begin and ends with “Dear Yours Sincerely” – But somewhere between the silence I’ve killed the purpose of my pursuit of perhaps; so now I’m turning what was once rhetorical into something more oratorical.
So perhaps it’s about time for my wonders and curiosities to wander from darkness into luminosities; to seek to serve my letters justice by posing my words outwardly, released from my own captivity. Perhaps my stagnant words will search its addressee and find its home. Perhaps I’ll find my answers, perhaps I won’t. – Perhaps’ are a-plenty; It’s time to seize the unspoken and free my anchored blues and frivolous musings.
Looking back, I think I knew that this was always an inevitable matter of time, to finally release what I always considered, just a matter of mine…
Diary of a Deluded Heart