Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter

Tuesday, August 19, 2003

Its the worst thing in the world to be blocked from writing. Either from someone sneaking up on you to look over your shoulder, or with all the unwelcome prompts to "hey, check this out.. you gotta see this." I'm afraid. This is too damaging to me, this being here in a situation that's never been what I really wanted. I should have listened to people years ago when they told me this was not the future for me. But I was too stubborn to listen. It was my mom. I should have listened. Now I'm stuck in this terrible rut with no hope of getting out of, save some major disaster, some upheaval. Why should I wait for this now. I deserve living my life the way I want with the freedom to write whatever the words say, no fear of retaliation. This is just another form of control. Home-based censorship. For years I've been trapped like this. Five years too long. I finally get my writing back again, I'm not turning loose of this now. Damn all the having to seek out broken minutes to myself just to be able to write a single line. I'm unsure and afraid, but I know all my words are true. That has to count for something. I'm afraid that the concept of patience has run out, leaving me to wonder how could I handle this. My one much needed source of courage has vanished. What could I be now without that possibility. I am so close, I can't give up on this. Don't give up on me.

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