Many many years ago.. I sat in my room with my diary and a pen in hand.
Yes I loved to write by hand on paper and that gave me a deep connection with the words. I felt as if I owned them and the words owned me too. I felt as their creator and loved them like my children. Not that what I type now is not as special but when I wrote.. I fell in love..
That’s when I met the person who was writing. She was quite different from what I am. She was more passionate.. opinionated. . Daring.. open.. witty.. caring.. and above all Expressive. A quality I seriously lack.
She was and is all that I want to be.
Where did she hide all day..?
I am in plain sight… Right outside the writer. Making a shell.
I want to break free.
Here I am.. everything that I am.. all of it.. yet the world can’t see.
Those who see.. can’t believe. .
This is who I can be. This is who I am. All of Me.