I love my tumblr so much bc it’s truly a time capsule. Every love, heartbreak, era, dream has inspired a page written. I love to look back and reminisce, I love to remember what I was doing and how I was feeling. I wish I could just hug every version of me that beared her soul & poured her heart out until she had nothing left. Then waited for the world to show her more. As the calendars pages flip month by month and are replaced by another year after year. I change, I grow, sometimes not much has evolved and sometimes I don’t recognize myself. What’s never left me was this undeniable feeling in the center of my chest that my life is meant for something so much greater than my current circumstances. I saw that in myself, even while vision impaired and naive. I’m always looking back or forward on nights like these. It’s touching to think that the me then was looking forward to this moment… we’re still connected in that way and I still feel that tug in my heart.
Sometimes I don’t write because I want everything I create to be “good”. I worry that I’m not as articulate and thought provoking as my favorite authors. I worry that I don’t know enough words or I’m too wordy. I worry that I can’t paint a picture vivid enough to invade an imagination. I worry that the heart strings I pull on don’t travel deep enough. I worry that the worlds that I build won’t have a solid foundation.
But sometimes it doesn’t have to be good, most times it’s just for me.
Take care of yourself,
B
