It’s written in black ink on white paper. One word, and then the next.
The words flow across the page like horses ready to break free. Sometimes there’s a pause, unsure of where to go next. There is an obstacle in the way and I need to jump it.
I push my mind, a jumble my thoughts. It stutters, then it stops. But after beating myself up, I keep coming. I write some more and soon the page is filled with black ink. The page is indented with the blood of my thoughts, heavy in the ideas that I bring.
I keep writing. I keep pushing. Because to stop writing would be to stop breathing. If I stop, the idea drops with it. If I stop, I don’t know where it will go.
It might be the spark that starts the fire across the west. It might be the flood that covers the world with conversation. They will hear my words and speak my name and wonder why these ideas haven’t moved foreword before.
I write because I change the world as it changes me. I see the world as I experience it. I write because no one has heard my perspective before.
I don’t want my voice to be hidden.
There is a current of voices out there, scrambling to choke each other out. But I step away from the pack. I step away because I don’t want to be the same. I want to feel the love well up in my heart and tingle into the nerves of my fingers until they burst out like a star across the horizon who couldn’t contain himself any longer.
I want the world to know that
I AM HERE
and I’m not going anywhere.
I am here and I see a world both too great and terrible to imagine. I see a world as a gentle lady and a terrible giant, all fighting to be different and one. Breaking apart and then coming together again. I want to capture that moment…
I want to capture that moment, bring you in. I will whisper you my secrets and then push you out to the world raw and bleeding. You cannot linger, but you will never forget.
You cannot stop me, the lioness of the written world.