Hi.
I am not sure what has come over me. maybe I need to walk alone in the rain or get a manicure in a crowded place, but I have erased a lot of words that I really really enjoyed writing and sharing and reading. All gone, up in virtual smoke. And now, I am here in this new space with out all the weight of the consonants and the high pitched vowels.
I am not sure what this new space will do for me and you and my writing. I may choose fashion over emotions and politics over thoughts. I am not sure at all what this new little space has to offer. But what I can promise is that what ever I am thinking or feeling or urging - you my friends will hear about it.
So this little thing will hopefully become a place where some words will be linked together into (somewhat) coherent sentences about a girl who at the age of 8 had to burn her blanket because she couldn't' stop on her own. And how even though, she did her best to make sure she wouldn't "ever" again, she did anyway. So hopefully together we can get to know the girl who doesn't ever like to change but is trying to do so on a daily basis.
I like the idea of not knowing if anyone is out there listening or learning or playing along. And if you are, please don't tell me quite yet. I am learning to do things all by myself, that includes conversations .
This is something from the other space. It's been following me around and tugging on my sleeve, so I have decided to let it play in this space too:
no matter how much we laugh together or how fascinated I become with the melting color of the leaves or how easy it is to drop everything else in the puddles I still have that ache of worry. It sits rather silent in the most common place in my heart. It will often share a table with love and optimism. However its not until I almost forget about it that worry, quite politely, stands and makes herself present. However, no matter how polite she is in making her safe known, she causes the rest of me to freeze. stand still with the shame of failure for taking a new step that may not be as sure as pretty as the last
I am not sure what has come over me. maybe I need to walk alone in the rain or get a manicure in a crowded place, but I have erased a lot of words that I really really enjoyed writing and sharing and reading. All gone, up in virtual smoke. And now, I am here in this new space with out all the weight of the consonants and the high pitched vowels.
I am not sure what this new space will do for me and you and my writing. I may choose fashion over emotions and politics over thoughts. I am not sure at all what this new little space has to offer. But what I can promise is that what ever I am thinking or feeling or urging - you my friends will hear about it.
So this little thing will hopefully become a place where some words will be linked together into (somewhat) coherent sentences about a girl who at the age of 8 had to burn her blanket because she couldn't' stop on her own. And how even though, she did her best to make sure she wouldn't "ever" again, she did anyway. So hopefully together we can get to know the girl who doesn't ever like to change but is trying to do so on a daily basis.
I like the idea of not knowing if anyone is out there listening or learning or playing along. And if you are, please don't tell me quite yet. I am learning to do things all by myself, that includes conversations .
This is something from the other space. It's been following me around and tugging on my sleeve, so I have decided to let it play in this space too:
no matter how much we laugh together or how fascinated I become with the melting color of the leaves or how easy it is to drop everything else in the puddles I still have that ache of worry. It sits rather silent in the most common place in my heart. It will often share a table with love and optimism. However its not until I almost forget about it that worry, quite politely, stands and makes herself present. However, no matter how polite she is in making her safe known, she causes the rest of me to freeze. stand still with the shame of failure for taking a new step that may not be as sure as pretty as the last
posted by Amanda Mae at 12:41 PM
2 Comments:
For some reason your writing has seemed to matured or maybe it's just the new forum. Regardless, I like it. A lot.
why thank you :)
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