If my dreams get real bizarre

The more you write the more you’re concealing. 

I came across this and I can’t emphasise enough how true it is. I’ve tried again and again to put everything into words for the past 9 years (yes, I’ve blogged for that long) but really, the more I write, the more I start to hide, the more I don’t want to write. I’m not a fantastic writer, but it is exactly that way now. The more I write the more I feel like I shouldn’t reveal much to my readers, even if I don’t know who they are. Maybe that’s what’s beautiful about writing, you can use it to disguise other words. Maybe that is why I especially like talking to people who have a flare in language – I can’t guess what they’re thinking which makes them interesting people to hang out with. At the same time, the more you write the more frustrating it can get. You start to not know where you’re going. More often than not you want to write about something but somehow you just go off tangent, I think that is when you know that you actually don’t want to reveal those parts of the story. At least that’s how it works for me.

“Organised thoughts” sound very foreign to me but I’m starting to grasp the idea, I think. After leaving school, many things feel like they have to be in perspective. You’re a grown up now, when else will you learn? You’re 19 this year, you’re legal already, you can’t be pampered forever. All the money you’re spending now….. you have to provide for your children someday. You’re only going to have so much life experience, so get out there and learn something for real. Do something you like, be nice to everyone because everyone is fighting their own battles, just like you’re fighting yours. You won’t win every battle, but what’s important is the war. Win it with glory, you can do it.

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