How many times, has an event sprung a realization of an odd kind? I would say not so often. Just the other day, I was watching a cousin of mine on stage, and it struck me that it has been such a long time since I have held a mike. I think the last time must be in my high school. Even back then, speaking on mike never came easily to me, I had to force myself to get my inhibitions off, and just say what I got to tell. I remember participating in debates and dreading to speak up, I would have had so many points to make, but speaking up was never my forte. When I was introduced to essay and creative writing, I grabbed it with both hands, and found a medium to make my points, without having to get on the stage.
The philosophy seems to have gotten struck with me. The idea of not voicing my thoughts, not speaking up and owning my ideas. Professionally I might be the one who is one of those who doesn’t hesitate a bit, before voicing opinions in meetings and discussions, as though it’s a whole new facet of me. When it comes to real life [Very interesting that I don’t consider my profession as my real life], I hardly voice my displeasures, pleasures, and most importantly my stand on various subjects. Being a very opinionated guy, I find it really surprising that I don’t voice my opinions.
My blog is the biggest example of my escapism. The thoughts expressed here, which I consider the truest picture of my mind, even here I have chosen to not own my thoughts and come up with a pseudo name. I can count with half the number of fingers in my left hand, how many people know about my real life identity and identify my thoughts with me. When an article of mine got published in a book, I chose to write it under the pseudo name, and didn’t even share it with parents. So basically my thoughts never get the identity of my voice, they remain mostly anonymous.
This leaves me with questions. Is it fear? Is it escapism? Is it immaturity? Is it natural? Is it pseudoism?