My mind had a curly-cue of thoughts that spiraled this morning, and I was tired by 8 am. Breathing didn't do and I tried to put away thoughts of my oppressors, those who harmed me, but the memories silenced and shunned me. I locked my own jaw from the racing thoughts and I walked outside and touched a leaf. The Corinthians spoke and captured my thoughts, as I inhaled deep and spoke life to myself.
There was never anything wrong with writing, as my life felt like it depended on it. Writing will keep me alive, and not even the devil could stop me. Negative thoughts told me that I was no good, and my writing would never be seen, or appreciated, and the devil won. Hot tears flowed down my face, but my mask soaked it.
It was more difficult to entertain the vortex inside my brain than to let it go. I surrendered and told God, "take me as I am and promise to keep me alive," as if a pair of angel ears were listening. Right now, the world won't keep turning based on negativity. The world will keep turning for optimism, hope, faith, love and humanity. I won't live for the negative, instead I will breathe in the positive, the truth, and the life. I won't stop writing, although it felt hopeless and it felt like no one wanted me to write.
Writing was free, and it felt honest and beautiful and will keep me going. I will surrender more, read more, learn more, and embrace the unknown. It already happened, because my writing was done long ago and it lived on. I won't think less of my craft or compare, because to each their own when it came down to it. Every prose concocts out of the immersion from the soul of the writer's life, and it was never for comparison.
The sadness won't dampen me, instead I will trade it on these empty pages. Writing it down and typing it aways, and letting it live to be an example for those who might experienced the same. Every writer had their sorrows, and I was no different.