On Identity

  This is probably going to be one of the hardest posts for me to write.  This post is difficult for me to write because I find comfort in concealment. I can reveal just enough of my thoughts to appease the reader, without full exposure of myself. I do not write to express myself, as I believe every writer should. Rather, I write to empty myself of that which bombards me. I write to purge myself of demons and other vile monsters that attempt to plague my mind. I write to release.

When I originally created this blog, the intent was to share my work with a wide audience. I thought of posting my unpublished poems, sketches, photographs, and any other creative project I came up with along the way. However, as time passed, I realized that I wanted to share my thoughts, my opinions. I wanted to write what was within and bring it forth. The more I wanted it however, the less motivated I became to take action.

I think the greatest inhibitor for me is fear. As is usually the case when pursuit is greater than the ultimate gain. Fear dictates when and what I should publically write. Fear conflicts and confuses. Fear paralyzes. It freezes up every creative part of my being amd shuts my voice up within. It imprisons my mind and causes my heart to hide. It deafens and blinds me. Yet fear is my crutch.

In fear, I find comfort in knowing that my secrets are safe once more. That the heart that beats within me can still beat, quietly. In fear, I find freedom to dream privately. I find that wishes do come true, just not in this reality. In fear, I can hide safely in the box that I built just for me.

However, I am experiencing growing pains. I am beginning to outgrow this box and fear is loosening its grip on me. The cry for freedom shatters my ears, causing me to hear whispers. Whispers. I can vaguely see light in the midst of my blind darkness and my throat croaks, just a little. The sounds of freedom make my fingers dance as thoughts slowly make their way out of my private mind into the public eye. My secrets threaten to spill out and will no longer be safe with me.

This post was supposed to be about identity. It took me almost a month to complete it. I began to write and as I was in the middle of a thought, I received a phone call. Back to reality. I have been trapped in reality since, but my mind kept wandering to this post. This post that was supposed to be about identity, but wound up being about fear.