Here Lives a Flawed Soul

I have never been one to hide my flaws. Not because I don’t want to, I just don’t know how to. I’ve never been one to pretend about things, for the same reason I can’t hide my flaws.

When I was younger I tried so hard for normal, especially at home. Tried so hard to toe the lines that I’d lie or pretend but I always outed myself. Always! After 15 or so, I just stopped trying.
This place has been a good place. I read through my old posts, from the days when I was 19, to the person I am now. I have grown. In some great ways, in some not so great ways.
For more than 2 years now, this place has not been about the creative aspect of my writing; it has been a dumping ground. In the beginning, for the random things that clustered my mind, life. After a while, for the sad and mad. The things I’m carrying that I have no business carrying but which seem to cling to me.

I have constants. without my constants I fall apart in unpretty ways. This blog, like my creative writing, has been one of those constants for over 3 years. Sometimes I blog and I know that no one else will understand it, that whoever reads it will probably misunderstand it completely but I do because this place has, for a long while, not been about who read it, if anyone read it. No, a lot of it has been for the times I am Sade’s ‘King of Sorrow’, “crying everyone’s tears”, taking on too much of other people’s pain but never able to take on their joy.

I am like a swing set – up and down – never quite still. Tormented by some wind…
Some days I cry. Some mornings I wake up with tears, like this one. I was about 9 the first time I can clearly remember it happening; I didn’t understand the needless sad, couldn’t stop it, couldn’t tell anyone.
Some mornings I wake up with tears, like this one. There is no reason for the sad, it’s just there. When I am done writing this, I will get out of bed and go take a hot bath, put on some clothes and a smile and face the world like normal people do.

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