Tuesday, November 11, 2008
I’ve always thought that I had a way with words – written and spoken – but I’ve only recently realized that my words spoken out loud are vague and edited, cluttered with question marks. Like my voice is shut out, left out of knowing what is behind the walls that surround my true thoughts. There is something magic about the way a pen can so easily transfer my tears, my happiness, my fears and fuse them to a piece of paper. As I sit here, I wonder if I have ever truly communicated out loud an accurate version of what is in my head and my heart.