and then there was the real me

some days i don't feel like writing. nothing comes to me. and then, all in a rare instant, it hits. like a big gust of wind that has left me cold and chilled. and i can do nothing else until each word has been written. and as i write, it seems as if more words spill from the very bones of my fingers, no hesitation in wondering what i am saying as i clumsily write as fast as my fingers and thoughts will allow.  then as soon as it starts, it finishes.

its one of those moments.

there have been times that i have shocked myself with the actions i've taken. and sometimes i wonder where the momentary girl has gone. where the bold girl that went off to school not knowing anyone, disappeared to. where the reckless and adventurous girl that did not hesitate to travel across the ocean and place herself in a disease and poverty stricken country, has chosen to hide. where did she decide to go, the brave girl, who fearlessly, for the first time told a boy how she felt and didn't turn back. she didn't care if he said he didn't feel the same or if she would be flustered at the idea of spilling her soul. all she could do was share the overflow of feelings that were pouring over and experience the new facets her life had to offer. then i look at that and realize, that once, i was brave. though the fleeting moments were few and fast, they were fierce and they were times that i was firm. and moments that i was possibly the most me i could ever be. and i wonder where that me is and how i can keep the elusive resoluteness that i had once found. to live my life with such passion and surety that the mundane issues and even larger problems of my life seem as sandpaper that will only scuff my skin if i allow it.

and as it always happens, i realize, now, that i am taking such teeny steps towards finding the elusive elsa and keeping her here to stay. by sharing the most inner workings of my being, my thoughts, when i normally would shudder at the idea of posting such personal parts of myself on such a public place. the clarity and effectuation that comes from writing through my weakness is just what i have needed and just what i have dared to share. i thank the hand that has forced mine to be a small snippet of the girl i am trying to find. and trying to keep.