Diary of a 20 Something Year Old

I love writing. I especially love writing poems. Songs, even more. All things rhythmic. I also love performing. There is nothing in the world that brings me such utter, pure joy as performing. So what am I doing? I’m on my way back from Costa Rica, dreading the arrival of my reality. Aside from my dog and a few choice people, the home that awaits me is one full of questions.

Who loves me? Who do I love? Where is the man I can love forever? When will I meet him? Have I already?

What am I doing with my life? What are my options? Return to school and get a Master’s in Creative Writing? Then what? Write my own memoir? About what? Who am I?

What about my music career? Am I trying hard enough? Should I give up? Didn’t someone tell me never to give up? When does never end?

How will I perform? I need to perform. It lives inside of me, performance, and if insufficiently fed, it feeds on its very host (my soul). This I know.

What about my album? What do I do when it’s released? What are my next steps? How do I move forward? Will anyone help me? Who? When will it be released? Who cares other than me? Does it matter?

Should I travel “while I still can”? Mission work? Tropical countries? Become fluent in Spanish? I loved everything about Costa Rica. Could I live there? Would I?

Should I keep living here? Is this the right place for me?

Does it feel like it? No.

Am I comfortable? Yes.

I know some answers…

A Little Poem I Wrote and Call “I C Emotions”

Pride! I am one of the most

Powerful things on Earth.

I cannot die

Because I did not birth.

I am Transport.

Shame! No one dares come near me

I am one of their worst fears

I made a huge mistake

And caused too many tears

I am Builder.

Regret! All the world is angry

No one is my friend

Ever since I accidentally

put that craft to an end.

I am Captain.

Isolation! Silently alone in the cold

I sit and I wait

Watching for visitors

but loneliness is my fate.

I am Passenger.

Mercy! The sky screams guilt at me

The sea whispers hate

I try to reason with them

But know it is too late

I am Frozen.

Confession! I am just an iceberg

that lives in the Atlantic.

I continue to seek forgiveness

for sinking the Titanic.

Secrets aren’t just our creations, they’re our creatures…

“The problem with keeping secrets is that they’re alive. We like to think that our secrets can lie quietly in our minds, as inert as dirt, but we’re wrong. Secrets aren’t just our creations…they’re our creatures, beings with wills of their own. They grow. They reproduce, as we form new secrets to support the old ones. They even migrate, colonizing the people closest to us (ask anyone from a secretive family). But the scariest thing about secrets is what they want: They want out. The truth constantly tries to escape into the open, and keeping any of it buried invites isolation, obsession, addiction, even complete psychological destruction. On the other hand, random or ill-advised confessions can be disastrous. The only way to find harmony and balance is to learn when, where, why and to whom you should confess your secrets.” – Martha Beck

Read more: http://www.oprah.com/omagazine/Your-Guide-to-Confessing-Your-Deep-Dark-Secrets#ixzz2mG1h8Uvo