Sunday, February 23, 2014

Expose the Undies of Your Mind

"Well, well, well, it's about time." I said… myself.

I'm starting this page because I've been revealing my soul to paper (and/or text documents) since I could form whole sentences, or maybe only half sentences. But you know I've been hoarding it all my life, my writing. I've been stuffing it into books, into boxes, in closets, in hidden corridors of my computer. For what? There's no big secret; I am just that wary of lifting the curtain on my half-naked thoughts. I've been thinking lately, it's a stingy thing to do. 

I don't want to be greedy or possessive of thoughts. They are not perfect or beautifully composed, but they are potential. Minds were made to be set free into the world, even if no one's looking. If at some point in all of eternity, just one more set of eyes other than my own can read my words and feel something, a connection, an affect, than that is something of value. That goes for everyone, especially those like me who sometimes pang in jealousy at those talented individuals who express themselves flawlessly through speech. I'm talking about those times when you feel as if someone has been given the script to life, and you weren't aware you were supposed to go over your lines every morning. Am I right? Am I right?

Your thoughts get claustrophobic when you make them wear a turtle-neck. The person we are all affecting most by writing or expressing in any form, is ourselves. We find the truer versions of ourselves through it, and that can be a healthy type of self-centeredness; or better to call it, self-focus. 

My old friend, reflecting

Anyway, who asked me this question I'm answering?
I think I'm writing to myself again.
Writing about writing.
Don't be greedy with thoughts.
Scan for some worthwhile ones.
Let them seep out.
Then share.

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