The reality of being back in the U.S. is flying in my face now.
The putting-myself-into-the-right-boxes. Being someone slightly off-center from my true self. Being confined, sanitized, respectable. I'm scared of that. Scared because I've been there before, for years. I know.
I must unfurl. I've begun. I am birthing a new self. It is shocking and shattering and healing. It is wildness. How dare I let anything tame it?
Nevertheless, I am attached to a world, a life in which expectations will always exist. What am I to do? I wonder if I've been born into the wrong world. Or time. Or dimension.
Another universe lives inside me.
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I love words. I love putting them together and seeing what happens. They are my soul on paper. Through them, I hope to discover truth, create beauty, and inspire change.
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