Step One

August 26th, 2017

There’s a crushing feeling weighing my thoughts and hands down, away from the key board — bringing me farther from the desire to share and be read.

I have no experience, my thoughts are illiterate rants with no conclusions, why should any one care? I shouldn’t dare.

But, I’ve been told to write. Write and share what I know, what I’ve seen, and how I see the world. They say, “Maybe someone will see value in your words. Your parsed phrase, and deconstructed sentence may relinquish some other of their penance.” Unrealistic expectations.

I am curious.

To begin something or not to begin something? — I’ve always felt compelled toward the latter. Place a ladder in front of me and ask me to wonder what I might see from the top and I’ll more quickly take a nap at the bottom.

Wake up.

This is me stepping foot onto the ladder. Allowing my thoughts to spill, unencumbered, onto blank screen. I choose this to be my platform for all that seeps from my unconscious to conscious mind. Today, I loosen my fingers, untie my boundaries, swallow inhibition, and give a home to my thoughts — the important, unimportant, and all the in-between — that I carry like loose paper in the truck bed of my head.

I’ll try not to drive too fast.

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