and forgive the mistakes.
I wanted this blog to become something– something greater than I already imagined it. It became an obsession to constantly dig for a new idea or find inspiration for a new piece. I didn’t put a lot of effort into it. This blog became sort of a love child of my hopes and expectations. Sadly, I wished for my child to be all the things I wanted and none of the attributes it will soon be.
It’s okay but it’s not. I can’t write down my words as fast as I can speak so my story gets a little jumbled – sometimes messy…sometimes too structured. When I speak, you can hear the tremble of my madness, the tones rising and falling with ease, like a wave crashing against the shore. It’s harsh and it’s real and feels authentic..
When I write, I get lost somewhere between the lines of perfection and originality.
“Will someone listen to my words?” ”
“How do they sound?”
“Is it any good?”
“Am I . . . any good?”
It’s a trap. Making your love, your passion, into a piece of work. If i wanted to keep my thoughts secret, I would have kept a diary.
I would have finished my diary…. But it’s no longer a secret. I have something to say and will be said through these poorly written synapses of my mind. It will be heard, through the hearts and souls of those who understand.
One day. These poorly written words will flow effortlessly…harshly -like the crashing of waves against the shore.