I used to write about emotions, like the outside world didn’t matter. Like words that escaped from my head, out my finger tips could not in any way be harmful if it’s pure and honest.
Black and white, it’s my weak spot.
There’s so much room in this grey area, but do I even want to live there? I’ve craved that balance for as long as I can remember. I’m still unsure.
“Everything in moderation.” my conscious demands.
“Maybe it’s my inner voice, maybe it’s my ego…whatever it is, I just can’t say no. I want anything I desire, whenever I want, because I want and that’s just how I’ve decided it will be.” my subconscious argues back.
But what’s wrong with that? Why am I unable to fight for that – to be so extremely passionate about something?
It consumes you.
Words and actions just spilling out like ocean water through a cracked boat. My favorite way to describe this lack of tact is “word vomit” because so often I have caught myself throwing up everything that comes to my mind before I could even blink twice.
Now I’m beginning to become sure…balance is necessary in this world. Yes, even my own.