Odd feelings…

Today woke up with a odd feeling…
A feeling that led to a question…
And a question that led to another one…
I was always very creative, with a bunch of characters inside my head; with all sorts of experiences, needs, desires to fuel stories.
Today I asked myself: Where do they come from?
This question took me back to something I heard a few years ago.
My brother… “my birthday twin”, as I call him — we were born in the same day and month, however he is five years older than me.
Well, he is an actor and was talking about Ofelia, Pessoa’s sweetheart. There’s an amazing portuguese poet called Fernando Pessoa. His writing is…I could call it wonderful, but it is more than that. He gets under our skin and brings light into our soul. It’s a powerful awakening push!
Back to Ofelia… my brother was talking about the fact that Pessoa never talked with his sweetheart. He wrote about her, about his desire, dreamt about what could happen between them, however he never spoke to her. I remember he said that all that desire inspired him to write.
Wow! I’m like that. All my fiction stories are based in what I wish the world should be, as I should be, what I should be living. Probably, that explains why my stories are so positive. There is no hurt, pain, suffering. Nothing!
Always felt something missing in my stories. And today I realized that I was missing… I was disconnected… only wrote what I thought it was good and excluded the bad in life. What is that to be good or bad? Is it possible to be only good or solely bad? Bottom line, it only showed my disconnection to myself, to my inner self, to my soul.
Pessoa’s writing had his desires, but it had also his essence, his dark side, his light side, his fears, his feelings, his doubts, his insights, his good and his bad. That is why we become more conscious when we read his poems.
Now, back to that odd feeling… I was feeling so empty and disconnected… competely numb. However, I was full of memories, doubts, wishes, questions about me as a woman, as a sister, as a daughter, as a writer, as a human being.
I am full of everything. Full of life. Full of ideas. Full of feelings. Full of desires. Full of memories. But I insist to be empty, untrue to my core. I don’t write about my darker side. Why? Is it so bad to bring light to our darkness?
Why do we try to hide our fears? Why? Don’t we all have darkness in our soul? If not, how can we have light were there is no dark?
Shine light upon your darkness! Within you’ll find your true and unique self!
Light up the world with your true and unique self, because the world needs you!


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