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People say that the best way to forget about someone is to turn him/her to literature. I’m not sure which group of people said this, but I’m guessing they are those who can and do write. And this works! Well, at least for the people who can actually write cohesive realizations. Angst ridden and juvenile “I hate you (insert name here), I hate you and your stinking guts”, or overly melodramatic “I would die from a broken heart” lines simply won’t cut it. The idea is to encapsulate those tired and kept feelings and thoughts into the realms of ink and paper. It’s like creating a Horcrux (from the Harry Potter series). But instead of transferring one’s soul into an object, you transfer and lock those heavy sentiments inside a fortress of parchment (or in the Digital Age, bits/bytes).
This process has worked for me several times and has, modesty aside, birthed some of my best works. Why? Because literature is always best when there’s an underlying emotion to every word, an echoing bellow to each phrase, a message buried under shallow graves of euphemisms and word play… And the story becomes more fluid. Fluid in a sense that all those sentiments – bottled up and shaken – will just pop and flow like an uncorked champagne fountain when triggered. Sure, it may start off as a chaotic and puzzling outburst… But you will shortly arrive to an apparent and calm conclusion – A conclusion that might help you substantially diminish the intensity of, if not totally forget, the thought that drove you into writing in the first place.
So here I am again, after almost 2 years of not writing anything longer than what Facebook status messages and SMS allow, summoning the powers of literature to free myself from a binding thought. Once again, I will cry a desperate plea to an inanimate object --- ramming and jamming halfway past my cuticles to quarter inches of plastic pieces… Asking and begging a modern product of human ingenuity to aid me through a mundane human emotion. I know it’s pathetic to find empathy from a totally apathetic object. But I find comfort in writing the things I think about and then reading it again. It’s like hearing an advice without the condescending tones and the I-told-you-not-to-but-you-still-did’s. Think of it as my way of “mental-masturbation”… and by reading this, you’ve been welcomed to watch. (That didn’t sound right…)
