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So I'm not...

... Writing everyday. But this is still a work in progress.

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03.18.19

All the bills came out at once - Fuck yes. One less thing to worry about I suppose.  But any who. Lets start with the basics. I'm writing this for myself. I have to keep repeating this because it scares me to write/show my writing to a crowd.  A couple deep breaths to clear my mind and here we go.  Dive into this. I'll be 25 this year. Which doesn't scare me in the slightest anymore. The work that I've done and the "self-love" that I am struggling with... At what line does it become vain? Self love at the sake of others? Making decisions for yourself at the expense of another person? I guess I just don't get it right now and but one day I will.  With this writing, I intend to share my journey with my struggles and experiences in life. It'll be an interesting experiment for myself. I've been writing since I can remember. A little diary to express myself in the hopes that I can one day help someone else....
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Il etait une fois . . .

Lights blinded her as She began her assent towards center stage to join the other performer.  No longer could fear hide Her in the wings as t he curtains that once held Her in safety were rapidly breached. She felt the heat of Her blood charge into Her features whilst She desperately attempts to recall Her monopolized speech. A habit She was known for in situations where words no longer mended the imaginary wounds ripped back open by the headlining Martyr.  Walking on egg shells became routine when this opposing force repeatedly brought their own garbage to the stage. Grasping at straws or words - whichever gave solace first - a peace and realization came over Her.  This Martyr fed off her once rampant insecurities. This Martyr was starving from this risen star's regained joy and craved that sweet taste of doubt that once abundantly flowed within Her.  Slowly, the Martyr fell away and the scene was over. The only taste it consumed n...
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Couldn't Sleep

She was lost.  Not in who or where she was.  Just lost.  In a moment, she fell between the cracks of reality as she laid there just studying him as he dreamed.  Never in her life had she felt so misplaced and cognizant all in one moment.  Overwhelmed with emotions unbeknownst to her prior, she laid there with him and began to weep.  Not for him. Not for these emotions that overtook her in this rare moment, but for the moments she knew she would be without him.  Mourning the times that she knew that she would have to bare alone when their worlds no longer collided.  A young bride and her new world. Disoriented by these feelings that she believed no longer dwelled inside her and only then comprehending the dangers of these emotions. No longer could she hide the vulnerability that threatened to overtake her once pseudo persona of strength and that terrified her. No longer could she place the mask upon her face and avoid the confrontation of speaking ...
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