sweeter than honey

 i forgot how good it was to feel, unabashedly, unsheltered, truly, honestly, earnestly, completely.

i envy playwrights and poets, devour their content hungrily, but i fear vulnerability. i fear openness. i am unable to fling my arms wide open and shriek with my heart grasped in my palm. that's what they do best, right? be vulnerable. be scared. be open. to create - to really, truly create, to create something that's worth anything, i have to let myself be whoever i am, not whomever i need to be.

i love shakespeare. i love richard siken. i love the way words play off each other, a puzzle, a squabble, a melody, a dance. i'm not saying anything of meaning and that is fucking okay! nothing i say has to mean anything. nothing i say has to make sense. 

i'm so afraid of being in the wrong - even that last sentiment i just deleted a gentle "right?" at the end. i shouldn't have to beg for approval! why am i so afraid to be myself! what is so wrong with me, tender hearted and full bodied and wide eyed and all! i write too much, i ramble, i indulge in repetition and pretentiousness and nothing i say is ever coherent, and what is so fucking wrong with that! why do i have to be for public consumption! why can't i just be for me!

i think there's this....almost a paradox. in my rush to create something worthy of public consumption, i find myself filtering everything i say or do, sometimes even before it gets the chance to cross my mind. but the reason the works i admire so greatly are the way they are is because there's no fear in them! they are polished, yes, and they are precise, but they made with no worries whether it's likeable. powerful things do not have to be likeable. they just have to be powerful. these works that i admire so dearly are edited and restrained, but they are not rooted in fear. passion cannot be birthed from fear. at some point or another i have to know this.

for too long, i've conflated fear and restraint. the inability to start with the ability to start over. 

i'm so afraid but so passionate. so unrestrained but so anxious. i have so much i want to say but not enough bravery in me to say it.

i think i could create things that i love if i stop being afraid of creating things other people don't. my heart burns loudly and terribly, and maybe it's all-consuming - maybe it's a forest fire and not a matchstick. why is that a bad thing? why am i always afraid of being too much for people? why do i not ask for people that think that i am just enough for them?

i shouldn't have to keep trying to make myself smaller! i have good things to offer! i'm not sure what this manic high is, but i know i love strongly, and i know i create strongly, and i cannot be afraid and strong. 

i will not go gentle into that good night. none of this makes sense and i am okay with that.