I have so many things to say. My mind is constantly racing with things that I want to say. I want to tell people stuff. I just want to write it down so people will know. I don’t know why I am compelled to write. I have spent my life pouring my thoughts into journals and poetry and stories. I write essays and letters. I cannot help myself.
Maybe it is a desire to leave a mark. To somehow set down in stone my existence. I spend so much of my time feeling insignificant. Writing makes me feel connected. If just one person reads my words, we have connected. I have crossed space and time and put my thoughts into someone else’s brain. Once there, it is their’s to do with as they please. But, for a moment, I get to have my say.
And I have so many things to say.
I want to write on this blog and tell my truth to anyone who wants to read it. To say that I am here. I have a heart and a mind and I bleed red blood. I want to talk back to those that mistreat me. I want to explain to those I’ve confused. I just want to get all of these jumbled thoughts out of my head.
I want to write here, but I am scared. I am scared of the repercussions of saying who I am. I’m afraid of the rocks that may get flung my way. I know that I am strong enough, but I have to decide if I am brave enough.
Maybe these words are just the pebble thrown into a pond. They don’t amount to much, but they break the surface tension and send out ripples that reach much further than the point of impact.
These words are just the beginning, because I have so many things to say.