Midnight Reflections

I’ll admit, on a blog where I am supposed to be writing fearlessly, I have been writing cautiously. When you’ve come across rare, semi-rare, and not so rare experiences, the best way to cope with them is to speak on them. However, when these experiences involve other people, you tend to feel more caved in their hands to the point where the experience is no longer fully yours, you share it with others.

The difficulty of this is you can share what you experienced, how you felt, and how you saw it and the other person can diminish it so easily. You are sand in the hands of the beholder. It is no longer just yours to keep. You no longer have the final say in your memories, even if you were there. 

There are so many topics of important messages I must share in this lifetime but I feel restricted considering I share these life lessons with many people who have ruined my life. I have no connection to these people any more, but that doesn’t mean they cannot come back unannounced and angry once more. 

I’ll confess that i’m not scared, i’m precarious. I know I began this blog to tell my stories and expose those who dared to fuck my life up. However, I am an adult. 

Yesterday was my birthday, meaning I am officially nineteen. This means I have to be mature about what I say (at least that’s what society says), but this is my blog and I will run it how I want to. 

I’m trying my best to set aside the uncertainty of digging deeper into my past and writing about it. Part of me feels as though the people who have rained on my parade do not deserve any of my words but the other part feels as though they deserve to hear everything I didn’t say. 

I’m torn. 

I know what the purpose of this blog was for. It was to write freely and conjure my free will. I know now which part to listen to, even if it means looking foolish, feeling relieved, or having people from the past comment or storm back with torches and pitchforks. 

However, I hope this leaves the readers wondering. If people don’t want me to write bad things about them then why did they do bad things? In all honesty and fairness, they asked for it. 

They can comment and say stupid things that leave them looking embarrassing such as “wow great message.” I really don’t give a shit because they didn’t either. If they got to embarrass themselves without being ashamed of it, why can’t I? 

So all the drafts I have written up and stories i’ve poured my soul and anger my ancestors fueled my bloodline with will go straight to the blog without precaution. Some people deserve to hear and feel the fury from the heart they treated as wood in a fireplace. 

With this message i’ll leave with: hold grudges with people who truly deserve it and willingly asked for it. 

– A