I was sitting in my Medieval Islamic Philosophy class tonight when my prof started talking about how this thinker said that the closer we get to God, the more our language starts to fail us. The more our thoughts even fail us, and the more we’re reduced to silence.
But…but I’m an aspiring writer!
And now you’re telling me that I can’t even capture emotions or the intricate way God works with words??
This is one of the scariest truths that I’ve encountered.
The kind of truth where you don’t even want to think about it for too long, because then you start noticing the implications it has in other areas of your life.
But for me, that’s often how it goes – something is scary, so I run away.
Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let it show.
I made a fucking Frozen reference, and for that I am sorry.
Ahh. I’m fighting against my mind right now because all it’s trying to do is distract me so I don’t think. Which is a really odd thought, that my mind is trying to get me not to think about stuff because it knows it’ll hurt me emotionally…
Okay. Let’s cut the crap.
So words and language can fail us.
Our ideas of love fall so short of God that we literally can’t even comprehend how far they fall short.
As for me, I have no idea what love is.
I’ve always seen the best in people and that’s ended up hurting me more times than I can count.
Or maybe it wasn’t the seeing the best in people that got me hurt. Maybe that’s just me blaming myself again, because again, I only see the best in others but I only see the worst in myself.
People ask me how I’m doing.
“I’m fine,” I reply. “I’m good.”
I kind of hate these words actually
because people (including myself) have used these words when they are indeed not feeling fine or good at all. The words lose their meaning because everyone says them, so what’s the point?
I don’t know how to put my thoughts and feelings into words, and even if I could, I worry that no one actually cares. Other than my mom. Thanks, mom.
Gosh. Using humor again to cover up my sadness. It’ll getcha everytime. Someone called me out on that tonight.
It’s hard when you’re living in a constant state of denial in order to function normally throughout the day and not constantly be having a meltdown.
The anti-depressants help with that too, of course.
Okay. So I’m waiting until after finals to deal with my feelings.
Because I know I’m just shoving them down right now.
Writing is a great coping mechanism but I hate my writing right now because I’m not being honest with myself.
I try to cry, but the tears won’t come out.
And ya know those cliches, like where words fail, music speaks?
I talked to a friend tonight that spoke many cliches, because a lot of cliches are very true.
The strum of the guitar. Chords on the piano. The combination of notes make a melody that captures the human experience more than words ever could.
Why this is, I don’t know. Physics, psychology.
Music isn’t just supposed to be entertainment.
Music cuts the crap.
Music makes me feel when nothing else can.
Maybe what I need isn’t to write more words.
Silence is a powerful thing in music.
Often it’s those silences in music, where just for a second, you get a break from the constant sound, enough to feel.
And we’re afraid of feeling
So maybe I need to learn to be okay with the silence
and stop distracting myself
by all these words.