Judgment...forever my (inner) enemy

I feel as if I need to broach a subject from a point of view I am not comfortable nor well versed in.  As a writer of this blog I have always imagined myself as the writer of this story that is my life. The storyteller of what this life is and how it feels from the mind of a single, inconsequential face in the crowd. I am a person just like you, whoever you are, wherever you are.

Today I am not. Today I am the author of this blog, the person behind the artistic, and even sometimes poetic, voice that speaks through these pages. 

As this person I need to explain to those of you that stumble upon this blog that something I am very passionate about is the truth, and acceptance.  I have become aware of an individual that may or may not have stolen my words from these pages. I, like many of you, judged him at first, thought only someone  that does not respect another does this.  Someone has revealed to me that this information may have been misconstrued.  As I pondered this possibility I realized that it did not matter.  It doesn't matter if that person passed my words off as theirs or not because, in truth, he still passed them on.  He shared those words with so many that it somehow led to the creation of a webpage about what he did that can be found on Google.  That's right, google. The girl next door from nowhere America is sparking a revolution against plagiarism...I'll admit it's a bit exciting. 

But I'm getting away from the point.  I began this blog in order to show the world what it is through my eyes, in order to change it.  If people can see life from enough points of view maybe they will someday accept them all.  Equality and respect and knowledge and truth, this is what matters.  Not what was said or who said it or how they pronounced the words.  Someone stopped to take a moment to make me see that this person has brought all of you to me, and me to you.  For that I am grateful, and also nervous that I am speaking to a much larger audience than I was aware.  I ask of you only one thing: respect each other and the fact that we are all different and unique, in the most amazing and indefinable ways.

If you take nothing from these pages, please carry with you a value for the message it conveys.

J-L

True love and growing up

Somewhere along the way I lost who I was and what I stood for.  I unknowingly and of no one's fault but my own allowed my life to become something different than it should be.  And you might ask how I know what my life should be, because how can anyone know what that is?  Maybe I don't know, but what I do know is that where I ended up was absolutely, with no question or even slight pause, not where I should be.  Lost in a world of chaos, and floating in a sea of would'ves and should'ves, but didn'ts.  I allowed my life to become meaningless, void of all creativity and insight.  My words used to mean everything to me, and at some point I lost not only my passion for those words, but my will to voice them.  I grew embarrassed of the writer in me, and scared of where those words were taking me.  And so I let them go, slowly, but surely as well.

Today, I realized that I am unhappy of where my life has taken me.  I'm happy with the people in my life, even though I have lost touch with some along the way, but I am not yet happy with myself.  Without my words I fear that I will not survive in this world.  And so, this is me and everything I could not hold in today.

The rain would not let up today, it poured with a ferocity I have not seen in many years.  It did not pour in vengeance, but in retribution.  Retribution for the sins that I had still at that moment denied.  My father used to say that it would take a hurricane and a quarter to wash away the sins he had committed.  I caught myself smiling at the thought.  The thought that this was my hurricane and a quarter, but that it might take a hurricane and a half with all the wrong I had done to get here.  In my head I was standing on the edge of the pier, taunting the waves to wash me away with them.  I was begging and pleading them to take me, to just let me go.  And when I was sure that they would and that epic wave was building I finally found the will to fight back.  The will to write about it, rather than let it take me in.

I think we all finally reach a point where we find that we have, no matter our dedication to prevent it, grown up.  We reach a point in our lives where we need more to live for than ourselves.  I have experienced many things in this life, and learned many lessons, but those that are most important cannot be achieved until I can live not for me, but for a family of my own.  A lot of my friends are getting engaged, or married, or having babies and I thought I was fine living to the beat of my own drum pace, no matter how slow it was in regards to the rest, but I was wrong.  I want everything that they have so badly, and so suddenly that I am unsure what to do.  Am I really ready to become a wife, a mother?  Can I truly dedicate my life to bringing life in to this world?  I mean it is creation at it's most purest sense.  Could I possibly bring a writer in to this world, someone that could make much more sense with a far better vocabulary?

And love.  Ever the enemy cloaked as her best friend.  Could he be different?  Could he truly be the one that she has waited all her life for?  Cosmic, and exciting, and oftentimes frustrating as hell?  She fears that she has found something worth that much, that she has stumbled rather haphazardly and unintentionally on "the one", and that she will screw it up.  She has found many before him, but never made the right choices, or followed the right path.  How does she know that this is different?  How does she know that he will not hurt her too?  And does it even matter when she has made it so far in to his life and in to his heart?  Her heart beats best with him, but does not seem to have trouble beating on its own.  Is that what love is, when you grow up, I mean?  Does love stop being that earth-shattering and life-changing moment, and turn in to the moment that you simply like best?  Comfortable and meaningful, but not as...exciting or bold.  Is true love simply the only other person in the world that makes you the best you there is?

I am getting off topic, and metaphorically out of breath.  All I ask is that someone breathe life into me, and into this.  Before the pages begin to wither, and my body becomes cold.