What do you do when writing is all that feels “right”, but you don’t have anything to say?
I’ve been quiet on public domains lately because everything I’ve been experiencing has felt too sacred to try to put into words. Is that a disservice to what I’ve been experiencing? Is it not fair to share the wonderful things I’ve had happening to me? Probably not.
I’m pretty sure it’s my decision if I ever want to make public any of my experiences, and which of those I decide to share, yet part of me feels selfish for keeping recent events under wraps.
Still, they feel too sacred to share; the risk of being misunderstood and that marring their memory is too great. Besides, these aren’t for anyone else, they’re for me.
This is my life. I’m an “open book”, and some things will remain just mind.
I guess when you’ve written for as long as you’ve formed sentences, you feel inclined to make public the things that matter to you. I’ve journaled about it all, of course, even though it occasionally even feels too sacred to do that. But I want to have these memories to look back on. I want to remember the good things. I want to leave behind traces of the happiest moments. I want to leave a trail of how I get to where I’m going, whatever the path holds.
You’d think I’d be able to put it here, considering so few people actually read this, and yet I can’t seem to.
And maybe that’s okay.
1988- 