Amazed at how emotions swing in a matter of 24 hours.
Last midnight, I wrote with happiness, pride, and a sense of nostalgia.
Tonight, I write against the backdrop of an ’emotional vaccuum’.
Trust me, I feel so dead.
Has it ever happened to you that you’ve wanted to be sad, but that sadness just didn’t come to you?
Or, have you been hurt, so much so, that it stopped hurting altogether?
I feel the same.
Pain makes us better, I believe. But, tonight I also learn that pain makes us harder inside. It takes the life force out of us. At times, we become so hardened that it’s impossible to get through to us.
That can’t be a good thing. I don’t want to become unfeeling like the wall.
I’m really suprised at this resilience, this maturity, this silent dignity. I really wish that I could scream and create a ruckus – as I always do when I’m angry.
But I can’t.
When I first picked up the guitar, I couldn’t hold a chord down for long, without wincing in pain. Within minutes, I’d withdraw my hand, and look at my fingers.
Tiny ridges formed by pressing against the strings.
Weak, puny fingers.
As the days rolled on, I eventually got better. Slowly, calluses started forming on my finger tips.
Dead, hardened skin.
And one fine day, it just didn’t hurt any more. There was also this little kid would feel my finger tips and shriek, “Ghost skin! Ghost skin!”.
But, with my ‘ghostly’ fingers, I could now produce sweet music.
Perhaps everything comes with a cost.
We get hurt, the hurt forms a callus, and shields us from further pain.
I don’t know if it’s for good or bad.
Is it good? I hope it is. . .