That was so obviously a feeble attempt in constructing a pun.

Actually there are several things which I'm afraid to admit. Where personal dreams are concerned, I've always been a shape-shifter, but the core has thankfully remained the same.

Since a young girl I have fascinated by the written word, and plodding along in life, circumstances has made it easy for me to somehow, find myself doing and learning what I loved to do. So in the midst of more 'glamourous' and 'outspoken' involvements such as the debate club (and perhaps, later on in life an engagement in AIESEC where event-management was rather core), I was still surrounded by the written word.

Oh yes, me, the boring librarian. The boring editor. The boring writer. The boring language teacher.
March announces its arrival promptly. Two weeks ago the CEO, my boss, had his tenure renewed for another three years. A week ago the country's stock market started a dive in sync with the rest of the world's, yesterday it plunged some more. Today my boyfriend's driving home from his business trip. And I've got another planning meet south of the city happening next week.

For some reason I'm a mixed bag of emotions over the kind of work I'm doing here. A part of me loves the travelling, the meetings, the socialising. Yet another part of me, the core, is strangely distracted. But first I have to say this, it's not that I'm not allowed to write. I do it every week, and it's more focused than anything I've ever done previously. I'm included in the media circle, even if I'm on the other end of it. But this genre, this stiff limitation of what I'm allowed to express, and how I'm supposed to compose the expression, somehow, all of this is taking a toil on the kind of compositions I now write.

I have to admit that in the past, I was susceptible to producing a series of needless verbiage, and often I tried miserably to control that excessive need to say what was rattling in my mind. Now, having gained control, I'm surprised that I'm not as happy as I hoped I'd be. Instead, because of this control I'm left voiceless, not knowing what I can say or what I should say.

Still, I realize this. Unlike before, I'm not frustrated by the silence. Unlike before, when the thoughts flow in, I'm not eager to rant them. I like to imagine that up inside my head there's a sieve that's learning to function well, and the filtration system is just but starting to function in a better way. Knowing that I have control over what I say is one thing, understanding and practising that control is but another. I'm probably still a newbie at this, and it's interesting that being 27 (yes I'm that old this year), I still have to say all of this in-my-brain conversations out loud (much to the annoyance of people who seem to suspect I'm a kiddo pretending to be a mature Auntie). Realize I'm recording it not because I can, but rather because I want to and I feel I have to.

Having said that I probably should have inserted the other cliché line: Oh this is my space and I can say anything I want. Add on with this: And I'm saying all of this because I feel I need to. And another: Since so, I will.
There's a breathy tremor wafting its way through me because I feel the connection, and it excites me.