If Last Night Never Happened

If last night never happened

Then why am I so scared,

To look down and see the damage

Of my tights completely teared?

If last night never happened

Why do I feel remorse,

For the things I cannot remember

And everything that was forced?

If last night never happened

Then why do I weep so much,

About what I could have done

Had I not have been so lush?

If last night never happened

Would I still feel the way I do?

Would I think the victim a coward

Because she decided not to sue?

If last night never happened

Then perhaps I could still trust,

That every look that I receive

Is not a look of lust.

If last night never happened

Then tomorrow would not be

Another day to get over

The self-image that I see.

I would be well-rested in the morning,

And each emotion would be captioned.

But all of that is gone,

Because last night really happened.

*a poem by Emily Street*

Escaping Fear and Letting Reality Take Hold

When I first started this blog, I was so excited to have my own space to write about something I love, even if that something is as simple as putting tape to my lips and peeling it off. I had all these ideas about story lines and pictures to post. I had visions of wearing my heart on my online network of a sleeve. I wanted to use this blank canvas to get used to seeing my work in a public area. I was going to let go of my fear of being publicly criticized and say whatever I want to say because I want to say it. From the moment I opened this account, it was as if every thought that went through my mind had to go through 4 or 5 censor stations and the ending product ended up not being my original thought at all. Writing was so much easier when I didn't make it my life's calling. 

Even sitting here right now, I can't help but tell myself how dumb that sounds and how I shouldn't care about other people's thoughts or if anyone is going to read this at all. "This is yours. Make this yours!" But all is easier said than done. In fact, it's easier to give that advice than it is to take it. There's always going to be that overwhelming fear that I'm not doing this right or that there isn't a real theme to my blog, but that doesn't mean that I should give up! No, what I have to say really isn't that important or even necessary to read. Yes, I could just as easily write this in my private journal and feel just as accomplished about a discovery through my personal journey; but maybe there is just one person who randomly stumbles upon my page and identifies with it. Maybe my uncensored words will be exactly what that person needs to hear. Maybe the purpose of life is to make yourself happy and fulfilling that selfish need, in turn, makes other people happy.

I think about writing all day. I'm obsessed with it. I always have been. I have about 50 different story ideas in my head; all complete with character analysis, plot lines, supporting plots, and most of them have some sort of a riveting twist. I don't write any of them down because as soon as I do, they're real. My stories have life to them and are right there, for the whole world to see. My newly acquired goal for 2012 is to write down at least 3 of my stories. They will be publicized on my blog for anybody and nobody to see. I am going to face one of my greatest fears and I will not let criticism bring me down. In the end, this is mine and I will do with it as I please.

and I will end this piece with a picture of me with tape on my face, because some things should never change. :)