Spared Adjectives

In his book “Zen in the Art of Writing,” Ray Bradbury writes, "You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you."

The extent that this applies to me is uncanny. I always find solace in front of the keyboard, and nothing quells my frustrations better than watching my thoughts appear almost tangibly in front of me. Writing helps me organize the chaotic array of emotions that I find myself confronted with. By forcing me to put words to my emotions, writing helps me better understand exactly how I feel and why I feel that way.

Further, writing helps me express myself in a robust and meaningful way. Without fear of interruption, or the need to consider someone's feelings or rebuttals, my fingers are a vehicle for my mind and my heart, and it’s rare an occasion that I don’t feel more at ease after I allow my mind to take my fingers for a long drive.

And why should I care who agrees or disagrees with what I write? Am I not free to express myself? Are my thoughts not worth something? I attest that my thoughts are indeed valuable, and they will not be silenced to appease those that may feel rebuked by them; sometimes the truth hurts.

Anaïs Nin, a celebrated writer who filled journals long before blogging was even possible, wrote, “the role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say.” I couldn’t agree with her more, and consequently, I will continue to write about my life as I see fit. I will not filter my words to accommodate or spare anyone’s feelings, and I certainly will not remove any of the blogs that I have already posted.

To those who would like me to stop blogging I say this: Perhaps, if you wish to be spared my adjectives, you will reconsider the unnecessarily cruel fashion in which you treat me.