Friday, August 10, 2012

from the heart...

{if you prefer my music- that little ipod down below is waiting for you to hit play.
 for those who prefer silence, well, you are happy}

writers block. 

self diagnosis confirmed.

heart block. 
not mine.

problem is when do you have the courage to say here:
look inside my heart. 
read what it says. 
digest it. 
 and love everything you read.
problem is it {the heart} doesn't write. 
it feels. it beats. it survives.
a lot more than you could ever type or write or run-on-sentence about. 

often times than not i have found very few people that say:
 here, take a look inside my  flawless heart. 
open it.
dissect it.
completely. honestly. fearlessly.
you'll read it and get me and all i'm consumed of at first glance. 

it's more like- read the preface and the last page.
the end.
boasting a completely incorrect review.
because i asked for it? 

because if you read the fine print, italicized, in bold.
 the end is just the beginning. 
{my new mantra}

it's not in ink. 
it doesn't have a cover.
it's ever changing. 
it moves. 
it's every shade of red or grey
{if that's your new pink}
and no, i haven't read the book.


handle it with kid gloves because you are fortunate that i gave it to you. 
and no, i don't want it back. 
i just want it treated the way my expectations say so. 
sounds bad? maybe if you stop reading here

 let's get real-
on a standard scale of scales 
mediocre to average is acceptable. 
sad but acceptable. 
nothing more nothing less. 

but is mediocre ok with you? 
not me.
in any realm of anything, not just the heart.

so when it comes to your heart and those you love,
why is mediocre now the new acceptable?
this remains true for how you love 
and always, how you want to be loved. 
cherished. that's a better word.

raise them. 
it's okay. 

with everything you love with that good 'ol beating machine,
it's simple,
love how you want to be loved. 
go that extra mile. 
why stop at mile 10?
or cloud nine for that matter?

you can't be afraid and so many people are. 

what's silly is the fact that i think i have writers block. 
maybe it's just that i write with my WHOLE heart
 i am as honest as honest can be when i write.
 i don't want my book to be judged by it's cover. 
my heart. 

scared what i may find out about my own self.


don't judge a book by it's cover 
or a girl by her heart for that matter.
or a heart by it's color.
because grey just might be the new red.

dig a little deeper.
what really matters?

and so now i pause before the next chapter, a little confused.
a preface in the middle of my book?
since when?

an empty page. 
a perfectly stenciled open heart.
like the kind you perfected as a little girl. 
the kind my little girl brands on all things her.

i will always write from the heart. 
no holding back.
no writers block. 
no heart block.
heart attack, maybe.

get ready,
it's about to get real-
like beating heart real.

school has started and i have nothing to do but write my own love story. 

happy friday.

*cell phone photo credit