it’s important to be honest in what you write. as a blogging friend once said, our words mean things. i hold this as a fundamental part of my writing, and i believe it to be a root characteristic of my personality. i write with meaning, i write to say something, i write to be heard.

to write anything without having the intention of sharing honestly, is deceiving. that doesn’t mean that fiction is deceiving, but writing without honesty is deceiving. i suppose that’s just how i choose to view what i’m trying to do – be honest and share solutions or ideas to make things better. it’s what i’m after in the end, honesty.

what do you do when your imagination is left to flow through your humanity for a few days? how do you reconcile that, when you feel like you have to mask who you are at the end? how do you change so many things about your worldview and beliefs? or is it simply actually discovering who you really are and learning the truth? am i simply becoming comfortable with who i am and simply finding ways to express it?