Epiphany

After 3 posts, I have apparently decided that I will not keep this blog as anonymous as I originally planned. Since there is not always true value in anonymity, I'll put my link of my Facebook/Twitter so that people have a chance to happen across it. It's still a personal blog but I guess I have grown the courage to welcome criticism on any post if someone feels compelled to write some.

With that said, I reread my other three posts and I supposed I should pay more attention to grammar....yea perhaps that will work.

Enjoy =].

My Man In Writing

I don't know what it is about going to new places but it always makes me think about the type of man I want in my life. Maybe its the idea that I could find him any random day and in any random place so I'm looking for hints as to what I should pay attention to. But here he is (or at least my relationship with him):

Listen baby,

Look me in the eye and tell me that you love me.

Not just because you mean it, but because you simply can't help it.
Let the words slip out of your mouth when you're not thinking,

And slide off your tongue like water.

Let them drip onto me,

Reminding me that you're here

The truth is, you don't have to tell me. I know it.
I can't take my eyes off you.

So one more time, look me in the eye.

Otherwise I'm just staring,

Staring at you, but not with you.

No,

Hide me in your chocolate irises

I promise I won't blind you.

Wrap me in your dark arms,

Think of me as the energy you need

I swear I won't cut your strength away.

I just wanna love ya.

But you know it, don't you?

What everyone else doesn't

That every great man always knew his great woman was behind him

So he didn't sacrifice time looking back to check on her.

Because when the home stretch was close by

In any struggle, on any track,

Only the weak looked back and the rest passed swiftly.

So look me in the eye for the last time,

Take me in and don't forget my face.

Think of me when you're just that close

But don't you dare look again.

Because I'll always be here

And you know it.

A [brief] Contemplation of Fear

I haven't decided just what type of style of writing that I want to use on this blog. So for now, I will use whichever I want at the time until I settle into one I like. I think I will take this one a bit more creatively. I'm not sure though:

Sometimes I sit at the table and I wonder if the things that I do truly matter to what I become in life. I sit staring at the wall, staring at a closed window, staring at nothing and everything all at once and wonder if where I come from has anything to do with where I go. If the caution I take so tediously is truly necessary to ensure my "success". And after I think that, I consider what success is. Who succeeds and why? Which success is more compelling? The rags to riches; the American dream; the hard work brings good rewards type of success? Which is success in its truest form? Is the success of a sculptor who lives with her partner in a small studio painting her heart's desire everyday and few times sharing that heart's joy with others for small prices the same as the success of a big company CEO who never worries about a bill or a shopping spree or a single dime but has little time to consider any other passion but that of their company?

[start of new form apparently]

There's a Law & Order episode and the guy plays an author and describes some colleges students as those of "minuscule minds with overblown ambitions". I have to say that that quote is intriguing because right now I feel that that describes me perfectly. Not to be self-deprecating or anything, but I have the ambition, the want to be a great writer; a passionate writer, but I don't nearly take the actions necessary to fulfill that ambition. Luckily, I've taken a step with this blog. But I will say that this post is titled for a reason. I believe that I fear so many--too many--things for my own good. One of which being that no matter what I write, it will be minuscule in value though I would have attached an ocean of ambition to it. That I have faith in a piece that no one else does. I fear not being able to tell the difference between an unappreciated work and a piece that is truly lacking. I'm pretty sure that my previous paragraph is juvenile but at least I am aware. The more that I write, the more I will improve, the more comfortable I will get and the more others will have faith in me.

I guess I'm writing this because, like I said, this blog is available to everyone even if nobody is reading it. The advice is as much to myself as it could be to any other novice author who needs to decide whether its worth putting oneself out in the public eye for public criticism. So, whoever you are, take it or leave it. But I'm trying to figure out how to stop letting fear stop me from doing what I want.

Hmmm...

I suppose this is the beginning.

So I'll tell you a little about me. I wish I could do everything better than I can now and I wish I knew that I already do some of them extraordinarily. I hesitated to make this because I sometimes suffer from middle child syndrome and therefore refuse to do anything a sibling of mine has done. But, alas, I guess I've gotten over that little technicality and have moved on to become a writer. Full blown and anonymous. Though I'm sure you know me already, which would nix all that anyway.

I want to say that I've had a long-term, on-again-off-again, dispute with literature and have finally come to the realization that I am willing to try to make things work. Therefore, I am going to try and write on here as much as possible. If anything, it is simply to practice writing. I sure that I am the only one standing in my way of writing. I'm a procrastinator. And I swear up and down that if I just take a class, I will be fine. I'll be forced to write and my dreams will take shape when that time comes...not quite now, but sometime. And I'm convinced that I've been telling myself that since I was younger and I'll psychoanalyze myself later on to try to figure out why. But at the end of the day, I don't always do what I planned and its always a shame.

But anyhoo, I'm positive that I will at one time--several times--in my life be incredibly well-known (dare I say, famous?) for an original, creative piece that I wrote and submitted without fear of consequence or reactions. Just letting you know. You got it here first.