I have been receiving valued advice on how I should be careful what I write considering everything that is going on. I cannot even keep track, of how many times in the past this same advice has been given to me. I wasn’t able to follow it then, and I can’t follow it now. I have never understood the point of writing poetry or music just for the sake of it. Art in any form is meant to be personal and hold personal meaning, this is how art manifests itself into a ting of beauty. I won’t write unless the very essence of who I am, and how I feel can bleed out into my words, if I do anything less than this I am rejecting my true self. Being rejected by others is horrible enough, but if you reject who you really are you will spend the rest of your life living amongst the chameleons and the fools who hide behind masks and perceived social norms.

I have lived my entire life as a chameleon, and played the fool behind the mask. I had difficulty socializing with my peers, so I had to figure out who I needed to be in order for them to accept me. Living my entire life in this manner, can I honestly say I know who I REALLY am? The person I feel I am is the person I have been told I am over and over again. This only reinforces my chameleon colors, and motivates me to build better masks. I cannot stand the reflection of the man of clay you shaped to feel worthless. I know those who are saying these are victim statements, which just by saying such a thing does not validate the individuals real feelings.

The only time I have ever felt safe and free enough to be the real me is when I write. It is therapeutic to write books and post honesty in its purist form for the world to see. The thought of altering the only real honesty and relationship I have in my life, because of the fear of my soon to be ex-wife using my words against me, is just reinforcing the very self-hatred I am trying to overcome. If a judge were to decide that my children shouldn’t be with me because of who I really am, than I obviously have no business being a parent. I do not fear this will be the outcome.

I consider anything I write to be confessional in nature. I am always honest and true to myself regardless of any criticisms or judgments I may receive. I have paid a regrettable price for things I have written in the past. I haven’t spoken to my father in over four years for many reasons, but a recurring reason was a poem I wrote in one of my books. This in of itself sucks, but I feel the outcome was inevitable regardless. My biggest regret is the hurt, pain, and rift I created in regards to a family reunion. I felt hurt and rejected by my family for showing the real me, but in reality it was how I reacted to those feelings instead of thinking like a logical adult I acted like a child. This only made the situation worse and resulted in hurting the ones who were actually supporting me. Although it has taken some time it is one of those valuable life lessons I have learned about taking real ownership for my actions without the use of the word “but”.

The only true negative about such pure honesty is knowing I will be single for the remainder of my years.

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Comments
  1. Traci says:

    Wow Brother…..Just from a couple of sentences I can see that you have grown as a person, an adult. I am proud of you.

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