Jargon

Whenever I sit with a note pad and pen these days, it seems I am at a loss for words. It is not that my sensitivity has suffered irrevocable damage or that I am no longer capable of feeling the queer mixture of emotional jargon. It is probably a phase of temporary incompetence rather than stoicism, that I sometimes experience difficulty in expressing my thoughts in words. I would not say that it is a condition akin to writer's block. After a long span of elaborate pondering, I've realized that my sudden reluctance towards writing hasn't got anything  to do with and is neither remotely related to the symptoms of any 'disease'. It is simply because I do not wish to bestow myself with the honorable title of 'writer' yet, until I am ready to fully comprehend the magnificence of creating magic with words. For some, writing may be as easy as sitting with a typewriter and bleeding, while for a few unfortunate others, it may be what they call ' a privilege'. My aversion towards writing on the other hand compels to pick up a pen, which I assume culminates from the fear that a sabbatical from one of my favorite hobbies would lead to permanent dysfunctionality.
I have been experiencing flashes of certain disconcerting images nevertheless, for the past few days during occasional naps. Unsettling as they may be, I have failed to decipher these scattered and digressive dreams. There are certain characters within these dreams whom I do not wish to visualize, for they are painful reminders of wounds whose scars are yet to fade. Strong as I may appear on the outside,I am not ashamed to acknowledge  my vulnerability. But all in all, I cannot bear to see cracks appearing on my veneer.
It was and it is my pain. And  must therefore remain that way.