I open my mind and the feelings pour onto the page. I cannot stop my flow of thought any more than I can stop the wind or the rain.

I am tired, so very tired, of trying to censor my thoughts. I am completely done with hand holding and molly coddling because someone may “think” the wrong thing about what I am writing.

10 minutes, 10 days or ten years you may have known me but you do not know what I really mean from these thoughts. They are only what you perceive them to be. I could be exuberant of I could be cutting it all depends on what I am feeling and how it comes out from me.

You and yOu and yoU and YOU… all think that I speak of You. Yet it isn’t You, but yOu. Or is it yoU? Maybe YOU?

For me all that matters is being able to try and articulate my perceptions, thoughts and feelings.

It is a cleansing, a spewing, an emptying if you will. It is what I do and how I do it. I may try to bring you into my mind or I may leave it up for your interpretation. I may not even being saying anything more than random utter nonsense.

I may be writing for another, expressing their pain through my writing because they cannot and know I would never betray my confidences but yet their pain becomes my pain. Therefore I can only chose to get it out the best way I know how before it eats at my soul and takes root in the seeds of depression that have come of their cleansing.

For that is a part of who I am and how I tick, the taking on of the emotions and feelings of others. It is another layer of me. I can turn it down but I can never turn it off. I am not sure that I want to though at times I have thought about it. I was able to stop the dreams for a time, but I realized that a part of me was under nourished and withering by trying to suppress something that is in me, has always and will always be a part of me. Even if I don’t want it to be it is there. By denying it, I was denying my soul the nourishment from that source and making my mind more miserable. Slowly I let myself dream. I learned from myself and am still healing.

We do things to help others and are our own worst enemies because we don’t give ourselves the basic components of what we need to be us. We give our money, our time, our very selves to others yet we don’t take enough time to do some very basic things for ourselves, whatever that may be.

My choice to write a public blog and put it out there: to be loved, hated, criticized or ignored was a growth within me from years of cultivation of life experience of mine and others. For me it took a huge amount of faith in myself to believe I could do it. And I have done it and continue to do so.

As I slide towards the one year mark of blogging, I am learning more and more what I need to do as a blogger and a writer.

I need to stop worrying and molly coddling and hand holding and “what if” second guessing myself and what I write. Only then will I be able to be the best writer I can be. It isn’t just blogging, but in all aspects of my writing and my very existence.

So all of the you’s worrying, just stop. It isn’t worth it.

I’m working on me and healing my soul and sharing my thoughts, feelings, rants, poems, goofiness and sometimes even useful information.

Fabulous Gracelessness, Lady Maos, Crazy Mama that I am, I am still only human. I still have flaws. They are just a bit fabulous though.

I don’t plan to stop any time soon.

Keep Hope Alive!