What would I say if I could say anything? Granted given that it is within the range of my vocabulary I can potentially say anything. With consequences.
Having been an observer of many apologies when others perhaps said something that others believed they should not. Along with being on the receiving end of belittlement for my freedom of speech. Ever-increasing amounts of fear entered my writing.
I started to weigh and judge everything I wrote. Was it good enough? Was it clear enough? Was it worthwhile? Much have I written that I have simply deleted or never posted. Much have I written that has been converted back to a draft.
All the while life was distilling me to the essence. One label after another fell away and I certainly knew what I was not.
Yet, what was I and why did I write? More importantly, what would I write if my mind was not filled with preconceptions and judgments? What would I write if I hadn’t fallen down more rabbit holes than I can count and carried ideas out with me?
What would the pure me, who had dropped all the nonsense and lies want to say? When I want to write a story is it not greatly impacted by past stories? When I want to make a statement does it not get mixed up in that muddy mixture of truth and lies that we all seem to have fallen into?
I have forgotten what it is that is my voice. I do not know how to write the essence of myself. That which is me has always existed behind the words. It is the feeling of the words and not the meaning of the words. At times depending on my mood the words can be concise and sharp, but all too often they are caught in the essence of confusion.
I can get caught in no contract because I question everything. I question even those who have questioned before me and tried to give me their conclusion.
So here I am. Unable to sum up my essence in words. As I sit for a moment with my eyes closed feeling that which I attempt to describe. I can no more capture the moment than the self.