This Is The Real

Sometimes I feel oh... yes, sometimes I feel like I've been tied to a whipping post. So much betrayal, so much abandonment, so much fear in this life. Even those with the purest hearts and best of intentions will sometimes want to squash me, suppress me, silence me when all I want to do in this life is sing out loud and proud and free and open and honest about all I feel and think and do and am. I am so sad to think that sharing honest love and unconditional trust can feel like pain to anyone. For me, holding back, hiding, letting time go by not giving the dream my all is like dying.

And I wailed in the night to anyone who cared...

let me be who I am...

and please please please let me love again.

Sadly, I must accept that many are gone (so many more in their own private gardens that have not breathed in my ear in decades) and even sadder, some who are not gone would rather be gone and forgotten. I am so very sorry it hurts to be here with me and I shall do my best to be as obscure as I can be - but love is the opening door... I'll leave you out of it as challenging as that may be when I just want to shout from rooftops

thank you for being, for caring, for inspiring me to believe in love and continue nurturing what little hope I have left that my dreams really can come true in this life.

Shhhh...

I am trying to understand, trying so hard to resist my nature, to understand the fears, and hoping my maze obscures my defiance enough to amuse or console enough so I can continue living my dream of sharing everything with respect for privacy. If this is a baffling entry, then I may have succeeded. My hope is you are amused at the lengths I will take to compromise even as it may drive us to madness (gleefully, I hope).

But nobody heard... . . and that is the real.

Narf.