roan s. graham

It finally happened and I could breathe again. Met one of my heroes. Felt this siren, deeply unsung and tortured by her own silence, spring from a well inside me. A song that so far has no words and perhaps no real tune. But I feel it coming. And that's the horror of potential.

(Chekhov: The Major Plays | Ivanov • The Sea Gull • Uncle Vanya • The Three Sisters • The Cherry Orchard)

(This line from Tennyson's Ulysses always got me. With or without context, the words carried a current into my soul and filled me with that same desire. Ulysses- to see the ends of the world, and I, to see it through Ulysses' eyes.)

S.F.M.

I don’t put dates in my journals. When I look back through them, I don’t want to associate certain times of my life with certain feelings. They are all my feelings, and those feelings shouldn’t have to be associated with a “different me” because it happened in the past. I want to love all of me, even the bad parts of my past, at all times. The struggles I went through are mine to keep and let go of as I please. - S.F.M.

(I wrote this in the third person when I thought I was incapable of writing. I was obviously wrong. Even if you think you can't write you can. Just write what you think and trust yourself.)

I want to understand you.

Note to self: don't forget that thing you forgot earlier.

I imagined a rock becoming a planet (personified as a woman) as it fell into orbit when I wrote this. My brother read it and said it sounded what love at first sight felt like.

Before I begin to write, my hand will tremble. My whole left arm jolts with nervous energy and my fingers cradle the pen with a little too much awareness. I think aimlessly until a word comes, then half a sentence, then a sentence. Then and only then will I start writing. Everything after the first sentence is simply that; what follows is like the trail under a flashlight, first dark, now visible. The rest is the rest. I write to unleash my secrets. I write down all the things I am too scared to say out loud. After avoiding writing for some time I noticed the secrets will try to find new exits, be it with my voice or my actions. The secrets are my truths, and such things are better off existing somewhere real, rather than caged up in my mind. If I let them stay there, the thoughts would manifest into a darkness even words couldn't describe. So I have to write them down.

I swear an alien wrote this.

Remember that crazy high school crush you were obsessed with? Yeah, me neither.

Results of infatuation writing may vary.

I'm new here. I will be writing and posting old writing. If you like what I have to share, please follow. If you want to know what I am about, you can read what I write and interpret it for yourself, or ask me in messages because I secretly enjoy a good conversation about writing. Thanks and have a good day.