Writing from within

You gotta be confident in your writing to get any crap out of your system. But its difficult. I struggle with different forms of insecurity and suppression that sometimes the ‘task’ almost seems impossible to me. As though this is something short of a miracle. The toughest part is cracking the shell. And that shell is multi-faceted and an adaption of my own hell, perhaps. Anger, I feel, if the bubbling surface of a deep cut wound.

“I am a writer” Ahem, louder “I am a goddamn writer!” I still need to practice. I haven’t trained my mind sufficiently to follow suit with my mouth. So excuse the stuttering and stumbling.

I feel as if all this is a task. That somehow I will need to prove myself someway, somehow and when I feel that something stops within me: my want to communicate. This  is an unconscious thing because my mind is not necessarily designed to make a point or to prove myself but rather, to see writing, appreciate writing and develop my own writing from it. For if writing is not to communicate, to relay where body language or facial expressions had given up a little then what good is it?

I just figured that I want my writing to be myself, if it cannot be unique. To be free, where I am not able. To express what I want, what I aspire. To swear now and then so you and I know its still me. Or perhaps to explore a depth which only seems which have long eluded me. My writings will indeed be myself.