While talking to a friend about my apparent inability to write a blog post (hence the 5 month delay), he suggested that I “just say something.” Seems easy enough, really. Type a few words in the text box, make sure my sentences make sense, give my writing some sort of direction and mission accomplished.
Only it’s not that easy. In fact, it’s really, really difficult to just say something, if you think about it.
I mean, think of all the times you’ve wanted to say something. Maybe it was to a best friend who was making a seriously awful fashion decision. Or to that person who you really, really want to kiss. Sometimes it’s just impossible to figure out the right words that will make it all make sense.
And isn’t that just the kicker? That we, as humans, have this amazing ability to use words, to bend them into songs and poems and stories, and yet we can’t figure out what we want to say 99 percent of the time we’re on this planet. And sometimes it’s even worse than not being able to figure out what we want to say, but rather being too scared to say the speech we’ve had planned out for weeks or months or years.
I know that there’s a lot I’d like to say. I know that I have stories inside me that I’d love to share with the world. Stories about hope, fear, happiness and pain. About knights in rusted armor who always save the day and a girl too afraid to speak with her own shadow. Tales of children with heads filled with gears like machines and wrinkled old men flying away on a mourning dove.
But I don’t share these stories, not because I think there’s something wrong with them, but because of the fear that the rest of the world won’t handle-with-care. Won’t shelter their fragile bones from the bitter rains of reality and instead let them become discarded scrap piles just waiting to be collected with the rest of the trash.
So yes, saying something is a lot harder than it sounds.