They’re just words

Words words fucking words. You would think they would be easy, simple in fact, but nope. When you have 14 tabs open, the static is so thick that when you attempt to speak it’s gibberish, and you sound like you just played a game of telephone while drinking a bottle of tequila. So yeah there’s that.  

I’ve lost my damn words. POOF!! Into the atomsphere they’ve gone…just floating into space somewhere… 

I try to make since of them, but it’s like reading the alphabet backwards while at the same time patting your belly with one hand and making circles on top of your head with the other. I feel completely lost without my words. All I know are words. I write nonstop, but here’s the thing…the shit I’ve been writing is just that, SHIT. Smelly shit that is sitting in a paper bag on fire sitting on a front porch waiting to be stepped on. I am allowed to say this, because they are my words.  

When I go back and read this shit I realize I am being careful, so careful that it’s like I am tip toeing my way around so as not to hurt people or upset them. BUT what I am forgetting is it’s my writing, my words are written for me. For what I am going through, for the bullshit I need to vent about, or just the crap I want to say because I want too or need too. I love that others enjoy what I write and those that follow my blog know that it’s raw, that I don’t edit my writing, that it’s my journal in a way, and I love that everyone respects that.  

Now I need to stop being careful, stop walking on eggshells, or whatever the fuck it is I am doing, and get back to me. Get back to my normal. If I need to travel down the rabbit hole to find my way back I fucking will. I am over this shit. My fear or whatever needs to seriously take a trip into the fuck it bucket and be flushed down the toilet.  

Until next time…Sunshine, Sparkles, and Mother Fucking Unicorn Poop my peeps!!