The Never-Ending Ramblings...

Emotonal Ramblings

So what if I can’t write it down. I feel it in my soul. The restlessness. The satisfied promise just inches from my grasp. I can taste the salty rim on my l thirsty lips. But I have yet to swallow the soul quenching liquid. I am revved up. But not in the way I have begun to think of being revved up. I feel like I am about to explode. Some creative force is stirring in the depths of my being. Churning with excitement. Secretly, it’s plotting for an escape. It’s unidentifiable silhouette whispers in my ear. My fingers wander upon its inspiring skin, delicately massaging its tender birth.

I am afraid and vulnerable. What if I fail to measure up? What if I am just a vassal too weak and shallow for such greatness? What if I crumble beneath its vast expectations?

Or, what if I begin to build a foundation, with beautiful form, but relinquish my attempts to self-doubt, uncertainty, stupidity, no follow-through (like my book contest)

I fill my mind with corrupted thoughts meant to destroy my creative force. I look at others and KNOW I can’t measure up.

I beg to myself just for the chance to try.