Whenever you read an article it is as if you are entering into the author’s soul. Whether what you read is fictional or not, there is something you could learn about the writer behind the words on the page. Perhaps that’s why I love to write but that’s also why it terrifies me. Fear is something I have discovered these past few weeks but it isn’t the superficial fears. Rather they are the fears that run deep inside me that haunt me.
I tend to ponder about topics like relationships (not only romantic) and how they affect me. I ponder about the mistakes of my past not wanting to repeat them but wondering if I had. Society is such a messy place that you can’t express your truth without offending someone. The idea of truth makes no sense to me if I’m being completely honest. How can anyone know what is true and what isn’t if we all hold different beliefs?
How am I a good person and how can people tell? For example, there have been times I have been worried and have opened up to others. They told me I would be okay but it makes me curious because how could they say that? How can strangers tell I’m nice, intelligent, and passionate from a five-minute conversation? I don’t ever want someone to compliment me out of obligation or because they feel sorry for me. In a world full of filters, photos, and tweets that people see as truth (granted I don’t have much social media anymore) I people to see me as me.
Just to be clear, if I am shy or quiet I am not being fake. I don’t like thinking that way. Rather I see it as expressing different parts of myself. I want to be free in a world where we are slaves to others. Most importantly I want to be free of the demons inside of me that are holding me back from fulfilling my full potential.