I love writing everyday. I just hate that it’s for someone else. Or better yet, for something else. Something other than me.
It cheapens the craft. The words come out, sometimes they even sound nice. But they have no power to them. If I put my hand over the flame it gets hot. I see someone I love and my heart flutters. But sometimes, when I read my words, I feel nothing.
My jokes are not immune to this feeling either. When my heart isn’t in it, truth eludes me. Again, my voice makes a sound but it doesn’t elicit any sort of response. It honestly reminds me of buzzwords. You know the ones. We’ve all used them at some point. Carefully crafted, excitement inducing words designed to make you and I seem knowledgeable or important but are really just empty jargon used to manipulate our audience.
Bullshit, in summary.
I’m really sick of bullshit. Tired of doing things the way I think they should be done to get the reaction I desire. Carrying my words, my voice, the way I think the world wants me to be. From now on it’s just for me, exactly how I want to do it, to express who I am and the truths in my heart.