Phoenix Rising

I sat here and stared at this page for at least an hour. (On and off, in between doing some work, reading a webpage or three, taking about 4 calls and eating a cookie)(mm cookies).

And what I discovered is that I am loathe to talk about my problems. I was drawing a blank and no words would come to me. I have so much to complain about, so much has gone wrong and so much has gone right and this is the perfect venue to get it all out. I could tell this page everything I want. From my flaws, to my fears, to my hopes and my dreams.

Yet, something stills me. Something stops me.

Will I grow to love the page? (Or be one with the page?!) Will I be able to finally open up and say all the things that I know I am just waiting to say? I'm really not sure.

But for now, I still stare, and hope I come up with something to write about. 

If all else fails, I can always fall back on my old favorite: Penguins.

 I'm tempted to ramble about my life and my past, and put it all here for everyone to see.

I've never written a very personal blog, one where you actually have a voice.  Most of my blogs are artistic or philosopical - poetry, art, music, lyrics, quotes, comments on society, thoughts about life in general.  But a blog about my problems? Or my mundane things? I felt like there were too many of those in the blogosphere that I didn't need to add another to the messy jumble.

I am not really sure what this will become. Whether or not I'll keep having a voice, or sink into expressing myself with poetry and art again.  But for now, I'm using it as an outlet.  Not for you (whoever you are) but for me. 

So if you stumble across this blog, carry on, no need to read. I don't need readers, just an empty page to write my thoughts to. And if you stay, welcome to my little crazy world, whatever snippets of it I end up giving you.

I have always resonated with the imagery of the Phoenix.

I appear to go through cycles of change where things go very wrong, and then I pick myself up again.  I'd like to say that I come out stronger, or wiser, but unfortunately that isn't always the case.  Sometimes I come out even more broken than before.

I've just had 3 years of on and off hell.  Some of it was blissful, delicious and perfect.  A lot of it was wretched, disheartening, disillusioning and painful beyond words, especially looking back now.

I am now trying to pick myself back up again - I don't know if I'll succeed but I would love to be able to fan the flames inside of me and feel alive again.

And maybe this once, I won't fall down again. Just maybe.