There has never been a day, not once, wherein I was allowed to wear blinders. Instead, my mind continually runs, my observations are ever-present. I really can’t change the way I am. I’ve tried. I’ve only accepted my way, with the understanding that my journey is in many ways one that will only be shared with the hardiest of minds.
I realize the great majority do not think the volume of thoughts I think in a given day, but there are those that do. My inclination is: those are the one’s who faithfully read my blog; the one’s who contemplate the thought behind the thought; the one’s that wonder the thought behind the words. We are a special breed. We are, for the most part – writers – whether ever placing one word onto the page.
Some write veiled, others write revealed. I fall into the latter. For those that pay close attention to my words, they are, in reality, peeking into my mind. The good, the bad and the in-between; divided equally. I had a friend once question how my blogs would come across to a love interest, should such a person choose to read them. My only hope would be that they would enjoy what they were allowed to see.
I find no reason to walk through this world covered in cloth that makes me appear in a different light than what I know rests beneath. If houndstooth is my natural print, I won’t be covering it with paisley. It’s misleading and disingenuous.
Some writers sit distant from their work. Their mind creates it. But much like one wraps a present or makes boxed mac and cheese, they do so with movements but no heart. Hemingway said it well, “There is nothing to writing. Just sit at the typewriter and bleed.” So when I write, what you read, is what rests inside. I reveal this not for any other reason except that someone will notice that they feel less alone after having read the last line.
I see my life as a lone woman on a raft that bobbles, plummets, and glides smoothly along a great river. We are all on a river, some appear to move along smoother than others. But no one knows the raging torment that lies within. I write the words that live in that space.
Tomorrow: a visit with my doctor. My diamond black custom Harley.