March 23, 2005 - 12:20 p.m.
Let's start from the beginning... again.
Writing is a very powerful act for me, fraught with mixed emotions and associations. I know that after I stopped keeping a journal - out of apathy or exhaustion, or a mixture of both - I slid into a deep depression that I almost didn't come out of.
Even now, writing scares me. It shows me the sides of myself that I find ugly and deformed, the twisted and frightened parts of myself that turn their faces from the light. It shows me ugly thoughts that I was not even conscious were inside me.So there is that aspect of writing that I have always been cautious about. There is also a release in my writing, a catharsis. I see that I am not only these things that I so often wrote about. I see that I am more, that I have hopes and dreams and a desire to fight for the beauty in this world, even as it seems to wane. So inside my darkest thoughts and feelings I see the fundamental core of who I am. I see that I am whole and that I have sides -- a whole array of faces that I show to the world.
In the realisation that I do have dark thoughts and ugly emotions, I am saved. I am saved because I know that I am so much more than that.
