Noted and Forgotten

(P/S: This is a post on the incessant flow of thoughts I had when I was in Valle Verzasca while sitting on a rock and leaning against another rock.I typed out whatever I wrote in my notebook and every little paragraph may seem to have no connection with the previous or coming paragraphs whatsoever and may come across to you as bullshit. Haha.I could have spent some time rewriting it into a nice little flowy piece of composition but I prefer it raw like this (My english teachers will be disappointed :P).Oh well,I'm just expressing myself and I'm not gonna apologize for doing just that.) As I sit here on a rock,under the sun with the wind blowing gently against my skin, I wonder if life could always be this peaceful. Nature is so soothing. I think one of the best things of being alive is that you get to enjoy these natural elements that make up the environment of this world.Music is another thing worth living for.It helps resonate my soul,silence does it too. Being alone helps me

So here I am again after a long time.Haven't written or post anything on this blog lately except for the previous poem of course, as I had nothing much to say really. These days I pretty much keep my thoughts to myself,I don't even write them down in my diary anymore.Writing had always been therapeutic, I guess its the same with everyone. Watched an interview of Paulo Coelho yesterday.He is the author of The Alchemist,Veronika Decides to Die,The Zahir and a few more other books. As I'm quite a sucker for metaphors and symbolism like writings, it wouldn't be a surprise he is one of my favorite authors. So there was this one instance during the interview where he mentioned that he wrote for no one but himself. It got me thinking about myself.Of why i had stopped writing when i still had that constant flow of thoughts and ideas in my head.Am i being self-concious? Afraid of what people might think about what I have to say?Or am i afraid that people might just think of me a