I wanted to express myself in many ways before. I spent my younger years being loud and sarcastic. During my teen years, due to circumstances, I allowed myself to manifest through graffiti and drawing. I started to see that I was indeed art, as life progressed.
I am here looking up to the black ceiling and walls of my room. The room is pitch black and thr only sounds I could hear is the music and air conditioner. The words being typed in this screen allows me to escape reality for just a moment and so I feel free. It is in these moments I begin to bleed.
Writing is much more to me than words compiled on a piece of paper, quote I share, songs I write, my poetry, my articles or just excerpts compiled with random thoughts and feelings. The words I write reveal who I am and what I have come to understand. Ultimately, I share my story to the world or my perception of it mixed within worlds and universes.
Something I’ve tried to interpret properly is that words find meaning by the actions that follow. It is easy for me to write and discuss important matters but they remain just words if not seen evident by what follows as an act or building to something greater. It is the constant motivational messages, the reality that I’m human as well. We speak of being successful but what are doing to accomplish it? We can say we love and are in love, but what are you doing to reveal it as truth?
Just as the heart can be revealed by the fruits we best, our words can be perceived by what follows. It is easy to speak in such ways to entice an audience we present words to but are the words you’re speaking or writing coming to pass. Something to think about, really consider how you speak and what you write.