(I first posted this over a year ago when I first started blogging. Recently more people I know have been reading it and I feel a little shy again, so, this being Saturday, I thought I'd repost it.)
When writing things of a personal nature (deepest darkest secrets), whether it’s a song, poem, essay, story, novel, or screenplay, it sometimes occurs that the writer (I) becomes self-conscious (freaked out) and unable to continue writing (blocked). Even diaries can be a source of distress (my ex-husband might try to hack into my computer again, or I might die suddenly, leaving my children to find boxes of dusty notebooks full of whining and R(X)-rated tales). I have known women to burn their diaries in case of just such a catastrophe (I prefer the garbage can).
In such cases, one (I) needs to calm down (chill), breath (oooooom), and realize that, no matter how good some authors are at camouflaging the fact (someone not me), the best writing (as opposed to complete and utter rubbish) comes from the heart, from your own experience (truth).
Choke
Fear has me
In its stranglehold
Its icy fingers
Clamped round my throat
Blocking my thoughts
Steel handcuffs
Holding my wrists
Who might see
If I write it down?
Will they
Judge me?
Secrets in the open
For all to see
Discovered
Ratted out by
My own creativity
I feel fragile
Heart of glass
Placed next to
A hammer
Anyone can pick up
And strike me
With their
Quiet stares
Whispers
Behind my back
Shaming me
Strangely attractive…
Am I an
Exhibitionist
After all?


Salon.com
Comments
♥R
is to show, display...
which is not a "sin", but a necessity with you,
for you, lady, are, alas, a writer.
ask yourself, when wondering if
they will judge you,
what right have they to do so?
Are you not doing something far beyond their ken?
allowing play to stray shadow thoughts
that you, as "YOURSELF", may indeed
deny....but to your own detriment,\
for we are all of us outsourced, all we writers:
to the one true place in the universe
where the living is tough
but the breathing is
amazingly deeper...
we all need air, we writers...we depend on other
shamefaced holy fools to make sense of
ourselves, and our mission...
and our selves...and
the poetic equality of
all selfs..in glorious inspiration.
so: if you shut down, shut us out,
we are hurt...your own kind!!...
and you are maybe helped awhile by keeping things out of sight...
but you were not meant to edit every expression,\
you were meant to be a fountain of
youth to we fellow sufferers...
i burned my diaries many times.
perversely, it brings me both comfort and aching loss...
comfort when i retreat to my face, my facade..
loss when i think of how much i have forgotten about my soul
(Uhhh...what's with the italics? Time for a round of ISlantyBolds!)
rated with love
Placed next to
A hammer"
That's excellent--and says "I feel fragile" better than the statement itself.
Is there software that'll delete our too-personal onlinings at the ultimate crash?
the rose window
of my naked soul
to create church art.