Home of my Shadow

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I have wrestled with this blog.  Her purpose.  For you see it has changed.  It started as a venue for me to stretch and grow as a writer, which she still is.  However, I realize this blog is the home of my shadow.

Here dwells my darkness.  My fears.  Insecurities.  The things I hid under the floor board or tuck away in the closet.

Here my demons are allowed to run free.  To create chaos.  To be seen and heard.

Here lives my shadow, free to express it’s self.  To be part of me.

Here I am whole.

Rambling failure and flight

The flux of energy. The desire to create. To do nothing. It ebbs and flows. Leaving me feeling vulnerable and exposed. I am not sure what to do. I feel like I have to do something. Create something. Get clients. So I sit and stare at my screen. Check social media. I want to create something. I scroll through my writing. I am uninspired and stuck. Feel like I am sinking. Slowly without a life vest or anyone to rescue me. I feel like time it ticking. Ticking away in my ear. The voices scream in my head. Create something. Make something. Sell something. Get off your ass, get going. Share your ideas with the world. Stop procrastinating. Stop pretending. Stop stalling. Don’t they see that I am empty? That I have lost my voice. My ideas. My will to share. My everything. Time is tickling. Ego is counting. What do I have to show? Nothing. What am I? Nothing. Get clients. Network. Market. I have done so much of that that I want to give up. Feel like I have sold my soul. And still no movement. Consult my intuition. My cards. Change is coming. Release. If I release anymore, I am afraid I will be nothing. I will disappear. Maybe I have to disappear to find myself? Maybe I have to disappear, to die, to be reborn? I am willing. I am ready. I am stuck. Nothingness is invading my body, my soul. I am slipping away into depression. Into the blackness. The ideas that I cannot, will not achieve my dreams, that I am unworthy. Who wants to listen to me anyways? The spark trying to stay lit. The spark trying to grow brighter. The ideas waiting to be birthed. And I stop. I sit. I distract. I pretend. I ignore. I am lost. I am fading. I am drowning. I am drifting. Why can’t I? Why won’t I? My ideas stop and I die. My ideas fade and I disappear. Where am I going? Who am I? Where is the light? Trust they say. Ride the waves. Pray. Take space. Solitude. Serenity. Surrender. Why do I fight this? Why do I challenge? I release I release I release. Burn it in the fire. Give it to the wind. Let the waves wash over me. Feel the sunshine. Bask in life’s glory. Look at the stars. Sit in nature. Pick myself up. Collect my thoughts, pick of the pieces, feed the fire and start over again.

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Afraid of the Darkness

Afraid of the dark

There is a fine line I walk. Between sanity and insanity. Madness and control. The dark, the night, the shadows know this. They tease and call. Indulge. Dive in. Cross over. They appeal to me. Get lost.   Light fading. Amazing, beautiful and horrific creatures crawl to me. Images buried. Come to life. Living fears. Animating dreams.  Hiding. Flirting. Frolicking. Escaping. Imagination set free. Awake or asleep it doesn’t matter. Afraid to close my eyes or keep them open. Fearful of never returning. Paralyzed. Curious. The shadows toy with me. I see things. Hear things. Darkness beckons. Once again calling, “come out and play, please?”