I stared at this page for about 20 minutes, then wrote and deleted for another 20, but that’s nothing compared to the years of thinking about thinking about writing. Every few minutes I come up with a new topic or experience to write about. Sometimes, if the mood and my energy level strike right, a stream of consciousness poem gets vomited out into a small idea notebook never to be seen by the human eye. In fact, sick as it may be, sometimes I think about when I die how people may read these cryptic pages, and I get too embarrassed to speak the whole truth in ink. I hide behind metaphor and deflect experience and feeling toward thought.
This blog is to get over my fear of the written word. The immortal carving. The commitment out loud. As ink bleeds into paper, I vow to, at least for now, just speak. No perfection, minimal editing, but breath life out with words.. and even some long phrases that resemble sentences. I will speak more truth and harbor less fear.
