Words that a keyboard cannot reach, but a pen can | The margins of the heart spun by a pen🪴#1

Hello.

Welcome to the world of "clu"🌠
Welcome to the world of "clu"tch 🌃

Following the prologue (Episode 0), this will be a series.
I write about things that catch my attention in daily life🌈

Last time, I wrote about the feeling of wanting to pick up a pen again.
This time, I will write about the "voice of the heart."

Episode 1: The voice left in the corner of oblivion

On a quiet, rainy afternoon, you sit on an old wooden chair by the window, gazing vaguely at the steam rising from your milk tea. The warm aroma faintly brings back memories of your grandmother's house from when you were young.

Every day, new information constantly flows from the screens of digital devices, and news and notifications rush in like breathing.

In that speed, isn't there a vague anxiety dwelling deep in your chest, as if you are overlooking something truly important?

(By the way, I don't have a TV in my current home, so I'm writing this while remembering my time at my parents' house^^)

The "voice" left behind in a noisy world

We live surrounded by far too many "voices." Notification sounds from smartphones, breaking news, and the opinions of others flying about on social media.
They jump into our ears like the clamor of a large marketplace.

However, beyond that flood of sound, hasn't the "voice" that you should truly be listening to been pushed into the corner of oblivion before you knew it?

It is not someone else's voice, but a small, yet certain voice that resonates from the depths of your own heart.

The "likes" and "impulses" left behind

For example, drawing pictures, which you were obsessed with as a child.

The joy of gripping a crayon with your fingertips and drawing free lines on a blank sheet of paper. Now that you are an adult, that has been dismissed as a "waste of time" before you knew it, and it has disappeared from your daily task list.

Or perhaps, the impulse to suddenly give someone a bouquet of flowers, even when it is not their birthday. That gentle feeling is often shelved with a "next time" due to the busyness of life, and in the end, it never happens.

In this way, we push aside the small impulses that well up from the depths of our hearts and the casual feelings of "liking" something, one by one, into the corners of oblivion.

Fingers tapping on a keyboard are always seeking efficiency and productivity, urging an immediate response. In that speed, the time to carefully face oneself has become a luxury.

Nameless emotions sleeping in the depths of the heart

Just as the characters in a certain novel struggle desperately to grasp their inner chaos and inexpressible emotions, there lie nameless emotions deep within our own hearts that have yet to be discovered by anyone.

They exist quietly, yet certainly, like an old picture book covered in dust at the back of a closet.

And that voice only reveals itself when you take a pen in your hand in a fleeting moment and face a blank sheet of paper.

A dialogue of the heart, spun by a pen

That unique sensation of ink soaking into paper. The faint sound of the pen tip gliding across the page. Each of these things connects from your fingertips, through your arm, to the depths of your chest, and further into the deepest places of your heart.

Only then do the inexpressible emotions that could not be typed on a keyboard begin to take shape as words, however falteringly. These are not words meant to be shown to anyone else.

Words for engaging in a quiet and earnest dialogue with yourself.

A puzzle of memories revived from the corners of oblivion

Memories of a distant day. The words you truly wanted to convey back then. The regret of words left unsaid. The small hope that has kept shining deep within your heart all this time. Like puzzle pieces, these are assembled one by one by the pen.

And in the process, you will surely realize. Those 'voices' you thought had been left in the corners of oblivion had never truly vanished.

It was just that, lost in the hustle and bustle of daily life, you were unable to perceive their existence.

A beacon of hope to fill the margins of the heart

This vague sense of loss that everyone feels at least once. A small hole in the heart, as if you have left something important behind.

When you pick up a pen and spin words to fill that hole, something warm slowly spreads through your heart.

It is a gentle light, as if you are cherishing yourself. And that light will become a sure beacon of hope that illuminates your future.

Now, why not pick up a pen and listen closely to the voice of your heart?

Thank you for reading until the end.

If this article has even slightly nudged you forward, it would be my greatest honor.

See you in the next article!