Sep 12
Not a lot
So, I’m just going to type and see what ends up written. Probably not a lot. It’s been a slow day, a dull day. I’m really uneasy, nervous, actually. I just can’t relax, and I know why. Much of why. Most of why. I could type it, right now, I could, but I don’t feel like I can. I’m too scared to be completely honest, I can at least admit that much. I’m nervous because of something, and I’m scared to be honest about the whys, which makes me more scared, because I used to be able to write anything. Anything. It was easy. Now, I’m scared to write the anythings.
2 comments
2 Comments so far
I often feel driven to respond to your posts but have not done so before now.
You are so hard on yourself about what you post (or don’t post). I wish you could show yourself more compassion.
I like what you write on your blog and I don’t judge you on the frequency or word count or substance. I just feel blessed to read your thoughts.
Funny how there’s that pressure to slay your inner demons on the stage for all to see. They make it seem necessary to advance as an artist. Withholding truth is bad. Im glad there are still some us letting our skeletons rest comfortably behind closed closet doors