Candid Thoughts

“There’s no way you’d write anything now that’s worth keeping, let alone sharing.” This is what my brain is telling me. But my hands aren’t listening.

If I can’t control my dreams, I can control my writing. And, truth is, my dreams have been rather nightmarish lately. I’d rather not return. 

One nightmare was so horrific, it didn’t get better until Hayden Panettiere saved me. Yes, I am on the boat of researching everything ever about her and ordering her autobiography. But, to be fair, my dad mentioned her on the night she apparently died and I looked her up for twenty-five minutes before the world was clued in that she suffered a tragedy she could not survive. 

Anyone who is to blame, consider yourself cursed. I am a witch, if I haven’t mentioned thus far in my blog. But, I’d prefer to be a witch in disguise. A fairy would better match what I try to exude. Happiness. Earthliness. But I’m far beyond, let’s be real. An island off the coast of Pluto would have more appeal. 

I’m a weird one, in that I don’t understand my own appeal. I mean, I do but I don’t. The most savvy people are aware of their flaws but what if they’re too aware? 

I never want to be that girl, but I’m an extremist by nature. So if I’m not supposed to be conceited, then I’m going to be more sardonic about myself than I am about anything else. But I’m actively trying to change that. By remembering who I am, and how amazing she is. 

It’s funny. When I’m told about other people who have blogs, I think “oh so cool.”

But if my own blog is referenced I blush a thousand shades brighter than an August tomato and cringe like I was caught red-handed. 

Basically, I think the antidote might be to strip down to the basics. I’m talking two card poker, Drake’s Take Care album. Realizing your own worth. 

The appeal is as great as someone you’d showcase on your walls. Or not. 

I'm actively trying to take down my walls.