Tape Covers My Mouth

My mind is like a vault. A vault that opens and closes as it pleases. Some moments, I get the sense that I am forcing creativity out of me. It seems fake all the way. Sometimes I erase whatever I had written. Sometimes I leave it, hoping something greater will spill out of me and onto the pages a mere second from then or maybe even months later. It has been years later before. Who knows.

But then there are moments when my mind feels so open. I don't have to stop to think. I don't stop, because if I don't get it all out then, I would be saddened if I lost it.

Torture is basically what my mind does to me. Right now I'm at that stage where I need to get more in touch with myself and my enviornment, because the words aren't coming easy for me. If they do, I read it over and know that it's not to my full potential.

The best way I can think to describe my torture is strolling, going day by day with tape to your mouth. You can't speak. Can't scream. Nothing. Your mind is running rampant with these visuals of great things that could be if only you could get it all out straight.

A person, who I like to call a friend, once hit how I want to feel dead on. She described the creative "riot" that ran inside of her head as too much to contain, and she wished to let it all free, like releasing a "fistful of confetti to the wind."

Beautiful words she shares.