Turning Circles

When I created this blog shy to 6 years ago, my intention was to only write. My very first entry was about me moving to a new pad, and moving along the first few years, I wrote what I had in mind. Being alone for most of my entire adult life, I finally found my solace, writing something that is understandable by me only, for this blog is written for myself, not to some random people I met on the flight back home, or to friends that barely recognize my existence, or to siblings that don't even care what I had gone through.

Because writing makes me feel calm, and feel as if I am wanted by someone that I want, and secured because it is easier to write than tell - I created a few more blogs. These blogs are active, some with daily updates, some with random pictures of the places I have been, some with itineraries of places that I about to visit, some with my favorite songs on the loop. And some are privatized, and some are public.

But Zubaidah Arshad is the place that I treasure the most. The place where I fell and scraped my own knee. This is my turf where once I laid down hands spread up looking at the sky up above, head freed with worries because I knew that I just could toss everything in without having to think what others might perceive. This is my home where I saw H, F, Y, and Liam, Harper and many other alphabetical muses that used to color my walls.

I appreciate you, my dear readers to have me in your feed, to follow me in your blog list, to read me whenever you have time to do so. How glad I am, I am just out of words. There is no adjective that is able to justify my gratefulness for you and your valuable time.

It just that I am so afraid that reading my daily entries - my rantings, laments, my turmoil, my constant grieves - will make you think that I am such a cheap drama queen that scavenge people's sympathy through my writings. I am never like that, and having said that, perhaps that is the sole reason why I don't go tiptoeing other people's blogs and comment or even leave a trail.

Part of me wants to be invisible, another half just wants to pursue what has been done.

Maybe, not to be seen is easier than to being judged.

Just give me some time to think. I don't know.

I just don't know.

Comments

SalamMedia said…
Alaaa babe, its just a blog. If you feel like sharing, im here to read? If not, nvm la. But i must admit, there are some lessons that can be learn from your experience.

We all have our own drama. Reading yours is like escaping from our's.
05:37
Zubaidah Arshad said…
NH, it is a pleasure to have you here. Senyap je all this while, where have you been?

I decided that I will keep on writing. Because I think, this is the thing that I am destined to do.

ZA
12:07
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