about last night

 

I don't regret it.

I woke up this morning with sweaty palms and a racing heart because what had I done? That story I posted yesterday was part of a series that was never meant to see the light of day- it was a secret notebook with secret stories that are just not appropriate. But not appropriate for what? Sunday school? I'm trying to be a writer here, not cover people's eyes with cotton candy and rainbows. In a couple of years I will be 30- there is no way I'm going to be cowed by the thoughts of a 17-year-old. If anything, I should be writing to see how I would craft that scene differently 10 years later. In fact, I think I will.

My goal with this blog is to stretch myself to my limits, not squeeze into a box of my own design. I am determined to find my own creative voice and if that means traversing mucky territory then so be it- I am an expert at rolling in the mud. I'm growing into something here- there's like a butterfly metaphor or something. Or maybe I'll just wake up one morning with hundreds of legs and pointed teeth and my father will pierce my exoskeleton with an apple. Either way, I'm not staying stagnant, I've started down this rabbit hole and I'm determined to see where it goes. Bring supplies if you're joining me cause I have no idea what else we are going to encounter along the way.