One humid afternoon, after encoding documents in my workstation, I tried writing a blog post. After five minutes of staring at the blinking text cursor…
“Damn it!”
“What’s wrong?”
“Remember when I said last year that I’m reclaiming myself?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Well, I’ve been writing with a mask for many years, and then last year, I started writing without it because I finally accepted myself. But…”
“You got used to writing with the mask.”
“Yeah, you got it.”
“Of course. After all, I’m you.”
“The weird thing is that it’s easier to write with the mask now compared to the opposite. I said I’m reclaiming myself, but I was wrong. What should I do?”
There were two seconds of silence, and…
“When you write as me, what do you follow?”
“Rules.”
“Yes, and those rules were established to be that character. But when you write as yourself, you don’t need to perform. Forget the rules. Forget my rules. Just write like how you talk to people.”
“You’re right.”
I got anxious for a bit, and he sensed it.
“Breathe slowly, and have your afternoon tea. It’s 1:51pm.”
I followed his lead. I did my breathing exercise again for a few minutes. After calming my nerves, I walked slowly towards the kitchen and prepared my preferred afternoon drink: hot honey/citron/ginger tea. I went back to my seat, and we continued talking while sipping on that warm cup.
“I’m glad I’m alone while I’m having this problem. I don’t want people seeing me like this.”
He sighed, and quipped…
“We really like carrying our burden alone, huh?”
“Yeah, we do.”
We shared the same blank stare, and then he had an idea:
“You do know that this whole conversation can be your next post, right?”
“Damn. You’re right!”
And then I woke up from my afternoon nap. I left my laptop open the whole time. What a dream. Anyway, I went straight to my laptop and wrote everything that happened in my dream. I’m glad I remember my dreams clearly.
Header image courtesy of Abdelrahman Ahmed.
Ian Pasicolan 