I don't know what I want to say.
That is the harsh truth.
I have so much on my heart right now. I don't even know how to/what to share. It just weighs on my heart.
I think about my readers, I think about the community. What would they think of ____? Should I write that? Would it be deserving? Would it sound like a teenager's stupid opinion?
I don't even know. I hate pressure. I feel that I've create pressure for myself with this new direction. I use to be able to hide behind my cryptic poetry, it was comforting and I found relief in it. If someone wanted to know what it meant, they could come talk to me.
But this blank white page with its harsh openness scares me. I'm scared to say what I think for fear of ridicule, even if its in the best of ways. I'm scared of being wrong, scared of not being what I'm suppose to be. What is over-reacting and what is being myself? Where's the limit? Where's the line? Is there a line? How do I express myself when I don't even know what it is I want to express?
This is a block.
This is the harsh reality. This is the messy bits of life that social media doesn't show you.
This is the perfect imperfection that people hide:
including myself.
-Eva
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There is no distraction to mask what is real. TØP | via |