The ramblings of a girl who is misunderstood ... very eccentric ... completely odd ... painstakingly creative ... a little loud ... unbelievably funny ... extremely intelligent ... totally nerdy ... and really interesting ... as she loves her life and lives it ... walking down many rocky roads ... surrounded by people who will never truly understand her ...

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

I Have Something to Say

It has been brought to my attention that I am a very negative person.

This was a conclusion ... based on an assumption ... formed from their analysis of my writings.

It is also very far from the truth.

Everyone looks at art, in any form, and sees something different.

You either like it or hate it.

I believe that the scribblings of a writer - whether novel, prose, short story, script, poem or even blog - all speak to us beyond the words that the author gave to them.

Sometimes a combination of words resonates with you, clutches your heart, impacts your soul.

A random line may motivate you, someone may say something that catches your breath or makes you weak in the knees, a character may remind you of yourself or someone you once knew, a setting description can bring back old memories.

You may even feel that the author was writing YOU when they created this character because the similarities to them and you are TOO much to be a mere coincidence.

Words can make you smile, laugh, cry or even anger you.  They can be misconstrued or misused.  They can be used as a weapon.  Words can bring understanding or breed hate.  They can heal old wounds.

You take something away that you never expected and that something never leaves you.

When I was younger, my father died, my family imploded, my world was torn apart- all in one day.  The shock, then numbness, followed by unbelievable sadness, is something that I have never gotten over.  It led me to thoughts of ending my life.

Words ... saved me.

That is why I write.

I write because there are words in me that need to be expressed, a voice that needs to be heard.

I write because others have written before me ... and because one person's words helped begin to put my world back together, a little bit at a time.

I write because my words may unexpectedly help another.

I write because I want people to know that they are not the only ones, that there are people who see ... and understand.

I write because my words help fix me.

But I feel some clarifications need to be made.

Not all of my writings are based on me, but some are.
Not all of them are negative or at least remain negative.
Not all of them are good.
No one is forcing you to read it.
I will not stop writing.

In the notebook I use to hold my pieces, I write an explanation of each at the end.  I chose to not include those explanations here because I wanted the reader to be able to see what they see, to learn what they learn, to feel what they feel - without my opinions getting in the way.

I am starting to rethink that idea.

But I will not rethink me ... or the words that come from me.

You will not steal my voice.

1 comment:

  1. Words can surely be the key to release us from a prison. Words are so powerful, yet sometimes so hard to interpret. Each person sees it in a different way... like a piece of cake. That's what makes writing so delicious!