It’s not you, it’s me… I’ve been postponing the idea of letting my imagination run free, just because I’ve been scared. You have to understand I come from a world where not even your feelings are “just” accepted, where everything you are, and everything you do has to fit this model of perfection; and I’ve always hated it. I’ve always ran away from superficial shits, I’ve never liked them, and never will.
I’ve had to fight so hard to be comfortable with myself, not only in my own skin, but with my emotions, that this past few years have been quite of a rollercoaster; but it doesn’t matter how hard I tried to erase this voice in the past, it always crept back in, it never stayed quiet. And now that I actually allow myself, my inner voice, to have this amazing presence in my life, she’s become a part of me I can’t live without. That is why I can’t shut her out anymore, because she is this other person who wants to share her story, as much as I want the world to listen.
Sometimes this writer’s block is just an excuse to not take this leap of faith, to protect yourself from the unknown, to always be safe; but to be honest, I’m tired of safety, I want to jump into the unknown, I want to dive into this whole new world that only I can comprehend, and I want to dig deeper to bring it to life.
The scariest part of it all is that I have to learn so much to take her out of my mind; I have to… stop focusing on the negative, and rely on my imagination, my creativity and my writing. Now that I know this is a possibility, now that I can feel the happiness that derives from the reality of her within me, I know that this I what I’m meant to do; I know that my voice has to be heard, and that I can do this, with my own style and my unique way of expressing myself.
See, you have to understand when the only outlet you can have to express your emotions is writing, you begin associating writing with freedom; because is the only place where you can speak your mind without being judged, without being looked at twice, without being questioned; because only a blank page can understand that some feelings can’t be explained, you just know how real they are, because of how real they feel. And when you are not taught to be able to speak up, you create this disability to say basic things in life, such as “I love you”, “I need you” or “I miss you”; then, how can you expect to speak up when bigger things happen? When speaking up is the only salvation? But you’ve been taught that words can’t be used to save you, words are always used against you.
With this I’m not trying to justify myself, I’m just trying to make you understand why words, books, just have this special meaning in my life; just bring these feelings with them, that nothing else can be compared to. I feel free in them, because I can become a heroine, a lover, a friend, a philosopher, someone misunderstood, someone completely open, someone else… Someone, who I may not want to be, but I can borrow them for a while and become them, and I can feel their feelings, and I can see the world through their eyes.
Since so many amazing authors have giving me this blessing, I feel that I have to give it to others; I want people to be able to connect to a world, so different where anything is possible, where you can speak up and you will be heard, where you want to jump off inside the pages of it, and be them. I want to offer people, a chance to experience part of my experiences with books.
I want people to fall for my characters, for my story, in such a way that they forget who created them; because they are so attuned to them, that they can feel they have a say in their reaction, where they can understand their actions, without using words, where they can become them.
So, you do see, why this block is not only not letting me be me, but just putting this wall from allowing me to be the best version of myself, and “blocking” me the chance to give something back, something that the world has given me for free.
Ten-Thirty (AM) 