I find that I write when my mind is unclear. My attention slipping from reality and rediscovering the dark tender areas that ache with memory. Exposing raw unsettling feeling.

Unable to identify the cause of these waves, I search for clues. Digging deep into myself, scouring my intuition for answers. I have learned the hard way that leaving decisions making to my heart and mind is impulsive and irrational. Causing emotional rather than intellectual problem solving.

I feel as if my hesitations and fears stem from ghosts that lurk in my past. Dog lays heavy over my hopes and dreams. Starving for clarity. I’m losing my identity. Wandering thoughts between spiteful decisions, lost passions, and the need to prove myself. My focus should be on goals, happiness, and striving for success. I should be doing these for me rather than in hopes that I can prove myself to someone.

What am I trying to prove and why? Is this an attempt for closure? Am I settling? Am I truly happy or just striving to make myself into someone Unrecognizable? My heart and mind are screaming. My soul is searching. My body still. I’m listening… waiting. Waiting for the answer to be revealed. Waiting for the fog to lift from my eyes. Waiting for the exposure of my truths.

Trust in myself is fragile. I’m afraid of repeating history, making the wrong decision, letting myself fall in love. I’m writing for resolve. I’m writing without edit. Writing from corners of myself that are mute. Advocating to release this inner voice, breaking the chains or insecurity and allow whatever my life is to be, be.

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