Scattered Bits and Pieces

oliver22 (1 of 1)

My writing is a scattered collection of memories and moments in my life. Most people won’t be able to tell what is real, what is purely fictional, or what are bits of my soul.

Yet as I write I can’t help but wonder if people will read it and be able to see deep into my soul. They’ll know my secret fears, who I love, who I despise, the dreams I’m sometimes too scared to utter, and my darkest thoughts.

Sometimes I have to take a step back and remember that most people will simply see my writing as words. They won’t know that bits and pieces of my stories are things that are all too real to me.

They won’t know I formed that tragic backstory out of the pain I felt when someone I loved left me in the dust. They won’t understand that my characters pain and tears are ones that I cried for a friend in need.

When you think about it, really only you will understand the things that you write about and why. Other people won’t understand or see through those dark moments that your characters pass through. Only you know. And those you choose to tell.

Really writing is an act of bravery. To bare your soul on paper, to bleed the whispers of your heart out unto a fresh document, or to simply form the words when you’re too afraid to speak your mind.

I’m a writer, a master of words, my craft is simply nothing more then bits of my soul formed into words. It’s just that simple, yet so complicated all at once.



fear and i

blueeyes (1 of 1)

They tell you to follow your dreams, but only if it fits their mold of who and what they want you to be. They don’t own me though. I am not their puppet. This is not their life. My dreams are not their dreams and they never will be. They can’t decide my life for me and I can’t let them. It’s my choice and sometimes that scares me. What if I chose the wrong thing? I make a mistake and screw up my entire life?

Ah, but what if I risk the fall and learn to fly. What if? The question that I think plagues us all. This bittersweet question has more power then we realize. We are caught in a spinning hamster wheel going back and forth, trying to decide the lesser of the two evils. We refuse to allow ourselves to take risks because we are afraid.

Fear is such a cruel, cruel master. We say we are our own people, yet we let him control us. His chains will drag us out with the riptide and eventually pull us under if we let him.

We must bare our souls and let his chains fall away. We must kiss this cruel master goodbye otherwise we will never fly. Life is nothing without a little risk. We are wild, young and free. We have our whole lives ahead of us. Fear will not tame or control us. 

Written by me on January 5th, 2013.  Please don’t share or reproduce this without permission.