The Ideas, the Dreams, the Longing

I want to have more of a presence on this blog and other platforms. Only thing to do is do it. There are no excuses for pushing passions aside. Our dreams belong to us and we are the stewards over them. I am just beginning to find my voice as a poet and writer and it’s been an exciting and anxiety filled journey. I have to laugh at myself and how I had so much fear concerning writing and if people would like it or not. Then I realized writing is fulfilling to me and that’s all that matters. Who cares what “they” think. I’m thankful for the dreams I had way, way, way back in high school, of being a photojournalist, fashion photographer, and still photographer for movie sets. I tossed those dreams to the side as I got caught up in life. The beginning of freedom is when you can look at your ugly self in the emotional mirror. When you wake up in the middle of the night or morning, when you look at yourself in your vehicles rear view mirror, when you’re out and about and see yourself in the department store window and see the unhappiness-the unrecognizeable person-that’s the beginning of liberty. The “who the fuck am I?” moment is like fresh air blowing through the hair I used to have. It’s the back to the future moment. The rebelling, oh hell no, I can’t live like this anymore shit that wells up in you. Why deny yourself?! Why be an empty shell wandering from useless space to useless place? We must let the ideas, the dreams, and the longings back in. Why the depression and despair? Can’t do it. Enough of the selfless, false humility bullshit. Why let insanity creep in when I can let love and art and innovation in. Is this not my world too? Do I not have a part to play in this huge play? This universe is endless, yet I have a role. The galaxies are vast, but there are some things that only I can do. Time for me to cough it up so it can help someone else. Time for bliss. It’s time for growth and maturity, and living a fearless full life. The only way to get better at writing is more writing (and reading). No more time for comparisons to others, it’s so futile and useless. It’s okay to start over and reinvent self. For me, I don’t feel like I totally reinventing myself, it’s more like finding me again. Loving me enough to realize the passions that lie so dormant in me. Thanks for reading this. 



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