When I write it feels like a flood of emotions running through me. Not emotions of my own but emotions of the character that is being created, the heart that forms on the paper. A heart sometimes created just to be broken. Writing is not about what the writer feels or what they live through but more about trying to make people feel. The author is not always talking about personal experiences or their own life. Its more about thinking yourself into other peoples hearts. People that probably don’t even exist. Its about telling stories you didn’t experience but that take part in your imagination. Where every heart can be broken but also every love story can end happily ever after. Its a land without rules, without boundaries. Where one can simply dwell in this mass of emotions and untold stories. Grasping bits and pieces of your imagination and putting them together until eventually you create not only a character but a world, an urge to know how what will happen and the feeling that what is written on the page is real, that is what writing is all about.
Society has a name for everything.
There is a never ending craving for definitions and regulations, for statistics and rules for how something is supposed to be or what a certain word has to mean.
And through this, society triggers a loss of horrific extent: We lose the things that can’t be defined. If what can’t be told in words is not of worth then society has no worth at all.
An acceptance has to start growing that there are things between heaven and earth, feelings, moments, emotions – that can not be simply defined, that can not be put into words and that can not be found in a dictionary.
Some things simply are what they are, you have to experience them yourself in order to understand what they truly mean.
The most important things in life are not defined in dictionarys, they grow their meaning and their significance in the hearts of those who are brave enough to close the books – and feel.
I wish I remembered what it was, that made me fall for you.
Just one thing that made it all worth it.
Then at least I could tell myself that there was a reason.
A reason why I loved you.
A reason why all this happened.
And a reason why it all ended.
© An Overthinker
Soo… I’ve been silent for quite some time now but I am back again! Because:
My final exams are over – and I couldn’t be more happy!
School has kept me crazy busy and I am so happy I finally have some free time again. To read, get inspired and especially: to write!
I am beyond thankful for this achievement and so happy to be back in poetry!
Thanks to all those of you who are still such loyal readers although I’ve been absent for a while, you guys are the best!
Lots of Love,
It happened: Everything was just fine and then boom there it was – my writing slump.
I knew this could happen to the reading part of me, but to the writing part? I didn’t know that. I suddenly felt like I ran out of things to write about. Like every time I started to write something it would just be nonsense, unimportant or simply not authentic. So I thought I would just give it a break and sooner or later it will all go back to normal. Here I am four weeks later and it’s still the same. But here I am: writing.
I came to the realization, that next to all the things that are going on in our lives, it is easy to cut of the things that we do just for fun, the things we do by choice. When life happens, those things are left out and its hard to include them in your daily life again once they have been excluded. So here I am writing. Still not entirely inspired but I made a choice: I chose to write even if I don’t feel like it. Because I realized: if I don’t write I’m ignoring a piece of who I am and what makes me happy.
So to who ever is reading this right now, who can relate – here is my message:
Do what you love and what you’re good at, even if you don’t feel like it, because it makes you who you are! And don’t worry, I’m pretty sure it happens to all of us!
I walk this empty streets once more.Thinking of you thinking of me. Wondering what I’ve been waiting for. Thinking about what we used to be.
I stare at the lights, that run next to me. Wondering if they have always been so bright.Or if It just now that I see, how bright they have always been.
Now, that My eyes are not just on you. Now, that I finally see. Now, that I no longer do, what you tell me to. Now, that I am free to see what is actually there.
I am thankful for what we had. Thankful for what it did to me. It has not always been that bad. And eventually it has set me free.
Free to know who I am and what makes me care. Like a bird discovering its wings. Ready to dive. Ready for those winds, to lift it up in the air.
I am ready to learn how to fly.Ready to throw my self down this cliff. Ready to rise up high.Leaving all the pain and tears behind. Ready to live.
And thanks to us no longer being us, I am finally free. I’m being able to trust. And I am finally me.
So thank you for doing this to me. Thanks for setting me free. This time I know it is for real. We are no longer package deal.
I’m on my own and that is fine. I no longer call you mine.
And I will do, whatever it may take, to let my heart not break again, the way it did with you.
One broken heart is enough for one to bare. So in the future I will take better care.
But thanks to you I know myself –And that is worth a dozen broken hearts.
© An Overthinker
When you are reading a book and you don’t like what’s happening you still have to keep flipping the pages and keep on reading to get to the good part. Life is just the same. Sometimes we have to keep on going when things seem bad just so we can get to the good parts. Some things just need time.
© An Overthinker