9/24/2007
I have blogging fear. What does that mean you ask? Despite the fact that I created this little place on the web for myself in order for people to better understand who I am, and the life I've come to exist within, I have a fear of my blog being read.
To go a little deeper, I am a writer. I am a poet. When I write I reach deep within myself and pull out every inch, every ounce, every crumb of emotion that could even begin to express what it is that I might want to say. I am honest. That is the essential core of everything I write or say but sometimes it is quite possible that my honesty, or the presence of my emotions over time displayed visually in a textual format has the ability to be 1. Misinterpreted, 2. Over analyzed, 3. Taken out of context. My worst fear is censuring myself because I'm afraid of the power of my words, but then that is why I write because of the power of my words so to deny that would be some form of self directed hypocrisy...and I rant on and on.
Why am I writing all this? Because I wrote a poem, a poem that I love but that poem has a specific purpose and thus a specific subject. Often times I write to get out the emotion, and sometimes I write to get out the person. Meaning taking any emotion I may have about someone and placing that into words allows me to release someone from my life. That's just how it works. So despite the fact that I may care for someone deeply, if I try to let them go in the midst of my own confusion, or my own decisive nature the words that I may write have the potential to come across as angry, or hurtful, and although I don't mean them to come across that way, anger and hurt are perfect ingredients for a damned good piece writing.
I wrote a poem about someone whom I cared about. I wrote a poem about someone who was the catalyst (knowingly or not) of great change in my life. I wrote a poem about someone who vacillated between coming and going. I am indecisive by nature, yet I cannot handle that within others because it lacks stability. I wrote a poem about someone whose presence I miss but whose presence is not necessary because I never really expected it. I wrote a poem about someone who never closed the open door, who just walked in the other direction without words. I needed words, I needed closure... and So I write.
I have blogging fear. What does that mean you ask? Despite the fact that I created this little place on the web for myself in order for people to better understand who I am, and the life I've come to exist within, I have a fear of my blog being read.
To go a little deeper, I am a writer. I am a poet. When I write I reach deep within myself and pull out every inch, every ounce, every crumb of emotion that could even begin to express what it is that I might want to say. I am honest. That is the essential core of everything I write or say but sometimes it is quite possible that my honesty, or the presence of my emotions over time displayed visually in a textual format has the ability to be 1. Misinterpreted, 2. Over analyzed, 3. Taken out of context. My worst fear is censuring myself because I'm afraid of the power of my words, but then that is why I write because of the power of my words so to deny that would be some form of self directed hypocrisy...and I rant on and on.
Why am I writing all this? Because I wrote a poem, a poem that I love but that poem has a specific purpose and thus a specific subject. Often times I write to get out the emotion, and sometimes I write to get out the person. Meaning taking any emotion I may have about someone and placing that into words allows me to release someone from my life. That's just how it works. So despite the fact that I may care for someone deeply, if I try to let them go in the midst of my own confusion, or my own decisive nature the words that I may write have the potential to come across as angry, or hurtful, and although I don't mean them to come across that way, anger and hurt are perfect ingredients for a damned good piece writing.
I wrote a poem about someone whom I cared about. I wrote a poem about someone who was the catalyst (knowingly or not) of great change in my life. I wrote a poem about someone who vacillated between coming and going. I am indecisive by nature, yet I cannot handle that within others because it lacks stability. I wrote a poem about someone whose presence I miss but whose presence is not necessary because I never really expected it. I wrote a poem about someone who never closed the open door, who just walked in the other direction without words. I needed words, I needed closure... and So I write.
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