There was a time I just wrote and shared. I had a goal to simply be real and honest. All the time. I never cared what people thought and I never cared if anyone hated, I only smiled when people said “awesome!” and that is what I did. I wrote uncaringly, and carefully to make a reasonable point out of what ever I was saying. I shared some intense poetry, stuff just off the top of my head, or even the deep dark shit that i over thought. posted it all on a whim. and did not care. Now Im afraid to make a status. I feel so… trapped again. like I can no longer simply say what it is that comes to mind first. I suppose this is part growing up and yet… its part societies reflection, in me of how we can be to judge mental and wall people up. without even knowing it.
I stopped posting and I miss it because I used to make people think. that was the other reason i posted my stuff. to see what thoughts would spark in the soul of another. What would they have to say about what i wrote. I always wondered that and posted freely and at one time gained huge feed back. Now i feel i can hardly utter anything and if i do it goes un noticed. Its an odd feeling to wonder where the reason went or what the reason is for this. I feel as a writer, as a person who thinks alot, i should write and share my thoughts. and I did and still do in ways, but not so openly any more… like ive become shy to let people know where i stand in life… i was once too pissed off to care about how others felt. but i guess as i grow up, that is changing, i do care about how others feel… and i used to over analyze that state of mind to and often dug deep into the heart and souls of what it means to have empathy, to feel anthers feelings. and reach out to them. change them.
i used to simply hand poems to people and would awe inspire a life change, a thought change, an action change. I made best friends because of my writing and I pissed off my worst enemies with my writing.
I suppose i wonder where my talent went. or maybe not my talent but rather my drive to try to reach others.
i lost my drive to try so hard, for another. Id much rather see you save yourself than have me try to explain my life yet again and why im even alive. what i live for … ect… that story, my old life stories, use to help people go on…. now my lfe, as it turns, may just be an old story, nothing more, and its time for new memories, new stories.
I want to inspire people again, I want people to find the best of themselves as we converse, I want to make a difference. Its hard though, ive become so angry again. at life. After Justin died, its like all the hard work i did to overcome my already dark past was blown away – and I was set back in a deep darkness…. Justins death has forever changed me and Im struggling to find myself smiling. I am more than ever pissed of at life – and yet more than ever life finally seems to be coming together – being held together by what little faith i have left in myself and God, my friends and family… its been one hell of a hard ass trek up a mountain i already climbed once. But im not giving up.
I will return to my former self, better than ever. I will write brilliantly again and timing-ly so, to once again change and influence hearts, hoping people only see that life goes forward and onward. Life will leave you behind in the darkness if you let it, and there in that darkness, one can be forgotten.
I suppose im tired of living in the dark. suppressing my emotions and will and desires and thoughts. I think its time I simply wrote again, and… dont over think it. I should just write again and see what comes of it, of my life, of my friends and family. Ill end with this quote “for those who mind don’t matter and those who matter, don’t mind”