Day Sixty One: My Honest Place
It is 3:00 am in the morning and I realized that I wrote some angry stuff yesterday. But I don't regret my words.
They are, after all, my words and feelings and place of honesty. They do not belong to anyone else. I won't respond to another person's drama here nor will I curtail my emotions. I don't have to acknowledge anyone else's grief because I am working out my own. In the beginning, I tried to write about other people, but it just weighed me down. There is only so much room in my sinking boat for me.
Here I can be as selfish as I want to be. If I were writing about other things, like bird mating rituals or seismic activity in the Pacific Northwest, okay, then you can call me out on what you believe are untruths. But my feelings? C'mon.
This has helped me, and I don't think anyone can judge me for what I write. They shouldn't because it's not about them. So I won't delete yesterday's post. It's there. I felt it. And now it's gone.