Honesty

My New Years resolution was to try a blog piece twice a week, and be more honest with my writing. It seemed like such a fantastic plan, something I could achieve quite well, and something I would enjoy.

It's day 7. And here I am, now, trying very hard to write.

It's not the lack of words, it's not the lack of imagination. It's not that nothing has happened to write about, it's the complete opposite. It's the honesty. It's the point where I begin to write, and I am afraid of what will come out.

I promised myself this would be a fantastic, glittery, cheery, whimsical blog. That all my fantasmic plans and midnight ideas would be on here. Somewhere that I could look back on, and remember the magic and fantasy that runs through my veins. I have that, it's stored right here at the surface. What I didn't realise was that surface was a mask, and what lies underneath I'd prefer to leave alone. But then, I wouldn't be honest with myself or others. 

And so here I sit, staring at a screen with apprehension. If I'm honest, I lose a part of me that I have been trying to hold. If I'm not honest, then I wait for the bottle to explode when I least expect it, or even understand it. 

I suppose every journey begins with a rocky start.