I sometimes hear voices and see pictures in my head.
Short stories. Photos. Poems. Songs. Videos. Long and rambling late-night thoughts, essays, and rants.
Usually, they end up taking the form of notes filed away somewhere in my long series of half-finished Google Docs. But today, that’s changing.
Author Caitlin R. Kiernan said, “Language is a poor enough means of communication as it is. So we should use all the words we can.” I agree with Kiernan. I love the idea that I am feeling some particular way in this particular moment, some way I will never quite feel again, some way you have never felt in the exact way that I feel it, and that no matter how hard I try to express myself, words and images will fail me. (Or if they succeed, I’ll have no way of knowing, and neither will you.) My goal is to bring you as close to my truth as I can, and to strive to understand yours.
Right now, my truth is muddled and I am confused. I am confused about the disjointed state of my community, my country, and my world. I feel desperate for more love, more effort between people, and more optimism.
I also feel confused about myself. This year, I became more aware of my own unreasonable expectations, ego, and fallibility than ever before (heartbreak is a b*tch). I see how this fallibility is applicable to my relationships, to my core beliefs, and to my most cherished, guarded dreams.
I am confused about the role of resolution in letting go. I am confused about the line between self and other, where independence should end and where community should begin. I am confused about how to make a home within skin I haven’t yet learned to love, in an environment that is constantly shifting.
I am searching for something solid to hold, uncertain if that solid exists, unsure of where to find it, and often I wonder if the act of searching is a childish and ultimately fruitless pursuit.
Sometimes, I feel like Andy Dwyer in this gif:
Nonetheless, I am deeply hopeful.
I look at the people around me, and the storm in my heart calms. I am immensely thankful. I see so much work, so much strength, and so much thought. I hear stories of inexplicable resilience, bear witness to overwhelming bravery, and am inspired. I see frustration and forgiveness. I see faith. I look at humanity, and, at its core, as far as I can tell from my mere 19 years of life, I see love.
I’ve gone through more and less outspoken phases of life. There’s a Jack Johnson song that goes, “The world has its ways/To quiet us down,” and he’s right. But I see such a dire need in our world right now for more authenticity. And, to be honest, I see a dire need within myself to become more me again.
This begins with reflection, vulnerability, and resolution. Sharing what I see, hear, and feel empowers me, despite feeling timid about sharing it.
So I started a blog. And I’ve accumulated quite a few of the aforementioned stories, poems, photos, videos and rambling thoughts over the years of self-censorship. I hope you enjoy!
Peace, love and hugs,