and the sky, open your eyes.

Every morning I wake up with a song in my head. Sometimes it’s the same line of lyrics for a week. Other times it’s a song I haven’t heard in quite a while. So…this morning, I decided to sing the melody my heart kept repeating. It has been too long since I have sung anything, besides in the car.

People will ask me, Do you sing? Well, yes. I have been singing for most of my life. I would just rather not do it to where others might hear. When I say this, my mother usually replies with, “If you don’t use the voice God gave to you, He’s gonna take it away.” Ergo, I vow to sing a tune daily.

It has also been quite a while since I have baked. Baking sugary-sweets is one of my favorite pastimes. I have cookies baking golden in the oven now.

And these roses you see, I cut them from the rose garden bushes. Candy and perfume are their essence.

Yellow and Grey

Do you ever wonder how many pages in how many books you could fill with your thoughts? I don’t mean random, impulsive and mundane thoughts. The ones that you immediately determine to write down on sketch paper, but never do.

It seems that for the past 3 years I have been consumed with these thoughts, whether they be melodies, perceptions, dreams, realities.. yet, I’ve realized that I am, in a sense, too afraid to document. As if what I think or feel or see is in some fashion not reputable. I would want to say that it is a natural fear of women, or even any human. But I, in particular, am so bold in not caring what others think, that I care what others think. Surely I am not the only insane one who has this phobia.

I am starting to believe that if I express myself on a more honest level, I can hopefully begin to shut out what others might think. My thoughts are my own, yes. But aren’t we all wanting to say what we feel? Aren’t we all wanting someone else to see us as we truly are?

I am ready to avenue my passions.

So, it starts today. At least, for me. Welcome to my blog, and welcome to the forest I call my mind.

Moments Expressed

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