I wrote this awhile back and just thought it would be good to post on here...
Freedom. That's what I feel with this pen in my hand. There is no one analyzing my every word or attacking me with inappropriate responses. I can be fully honest, let every wall crumble down and sit at my feet in a pile of dust. I don't have to pretend that everything is okay when it's not, I don't have to smile when I want to cry, and I don't have to be anyone but myself. When this pen is in my hand, I forget who the world thinks I should be and I fully embrace who I really am. I don't have a filter, and I can cry and laugh all at the same time without someone thinking I'm crazy. I can admit that I'm a hopeless romantic who only wants to find someone to give my love to, because I have a lot to give. And I can admit that when I'm upset I can drink an entire bottle of wine in one sitting, because it makes me feel silly. It's okay for me to admit that the future scares the hell out of me and that I do ridiculous things to sabatouge my relationships with others. On paper I'm not afraid to say that I'm insecure about myself and I worry that I'm never good enough. Because when I'm outisde of my small room, away from my blank pages and pens, I feel so insignificant and unworthy. I feel like I'm constantly trying to convince people that I'm worth it, worth everything, and I'm never successful. There is always someone better than me, doing better things, but I would never be allowed to say that out loud. That would show weakness, and weak is something I'm not. I'm strong because I can hold all of this in. I can hold my head high all day and walk around with a smile. I can laugh at everyone jokes and be ingaged in conversations. I can hide my insecurities and act like they aren't there. It's easy for me to pretend that I don't worry that I've said the wrong thing or made someone mad.. but once I'm surrounded by these familiar four walls and have a pen in my hand, all of the pretend stops and the real starts. The real hurt, the real tears, the real laughs, the real smiles, everything becomes so real. A simple pen can release me and everything thats been dying to get out pours onto the page. Everything that no one wants to hear can finally be put into words, it can finally be heard. So what's something that I can't live without?.. Freedom. Because without it I'd have nothing to remind me that I'm a real person with real feelings and fears and hopes and dreams. Without it, I'd just be another fake person with nothing to live for.
