confession.

I just can't seem to find the right words. My favorite pen has started to run dry and the scribbles in my notebook have become shorter, whether as a direct effect of my simple frustration with fading ink, or something else.. I honestly can't say. My heart seems full and writhing, but my mind stands quiet; there's simply no translation. There are too many tribes to even know where to begin.

I've experienced a few surges, especially late at night, or upon waking at 5am, moments that seem to swell, damp and heavy. Moments in which one thousand words swarm my chest and I feel full; inspiration flutters and the words make way to my tongue, but before they get there.. each just dissipates. 

I feel at a loss with myself. Like I'm getting farther and farther away from the things I want to attain and do, the person I strive to be. I dyed my hair red recently, and can name several reasons why, but if I'm going to shoot straight I'll admit that the most prominent drive was because I needed, sincerely needed, to feel autonomous. I needed to feel young, and wild, and not inhibited by schedules, money, social graces, and the responsibilities others deem necessary to "be a grown up." 

I need to get back in tune with who I am, what I want, and where I'm going. I need to be more diligent, and let my innate stubbornness have a little more reign; get back to believing that golden ideal that anything is possible. I honestly don't aim for extravagance in life, just the simple freedom to inspire and be inspired. 

So here's a personal goal: Write everyday again. I'll even let punctuation and common sense fly out the window. Just to nakedly express whatever is going on my my mind and heart will be enough. It doesn't have to be beautiful, it just has to be raw. My apologies if the many words to come are not easy on the eyes. 

(I know this has a lot of "I's." I am learning to be okay with that. 
I need to focus on myself right now. Focus, focus, focus. Just don't let go.)