I’m not normally one to force creativity but I know I have been missing this space and not knowing what to contribute so I avoid it. I started to write this morning and then deleted it all because it said nothing. I use to write thousands of words about nothing for friends and followers to read but I haven’t been so open to that. I’ve had years of side comments that slowed the words, that put them in cages until I couldn’t show up here anymore.
I’m here, I have no answers of what to do next. I don’t know what I want to share, I don’t know what I want to write, I know that there are a million thoughts going on at all times and that in the moment they seem pretty damn important but then later they seem overly emotional or dramatic or trite or sad. Can you tell what side comments have been lazily tossed my way?
I use to speak up often, I use to have so much to say. I still find myself talking but I worry about it now. I wonder if people are tired of listening, if I’ve crossed bounds, if people will see that there’s not just the ball of sunshine here in this mind. Haha, that’s silly, anybody that’s been around me for more than 5 minutes knows that.
I’ve been exploring the things I haven’t wanted to admit about myself in the past. The things I’ve tried to make nonexistent. The ones I’ve pretended were blips and then got mad at myself for because I couldn’t be trusted. I wonder what would happen if I could accept them all. If I could stop trying to balance atop this shaky pedestal I put myself on so I wouldn’t do anything wrong. What if I just let it fall?
I’m thinking about shitty rough drafts, I’m thinking about sitting with discomfort and imperfection. I’m thinking about really being in potentially awkward situations and seeing them through.
I’m thinking, I’m writing in personal spaces, I miss sharing. I don’t know what moving forward looks like.