This is for the angry child in all of us.
But mostly for the angry child in me.
For the chip on my shoulder that pretended to deal with demons that never went away.
For the misfit that wanted to join in on something bigger and better than what I'd always known.
For the lonely soul who found herself always at the very edge of friendship and acceptance.
This is the space for the words that are unfiltered, unedited, uncaring and, quite often, unspoken.
Where that disjointedly loud and quiet voice in me gets to speak and vent.
About nothing or everything and to no one in particular.
Because, behind the image people have of me, behind the jokes and the laughter, behind the figure people have placed on a pedestal, is just another human being that's been cracked once, chipped twice and broken many times more over.
There exists a person who got over it and healed.
Or is in the process of healing, I suppose.
At the least there's a person who got through it - who took a lot of thinking and imagining and pseudo-self-analyzing to get here and, more importantly, stay here.
After all, don't people say the now is what's important? The here and the present.
You can't live in the yesterday is another thing that people wiser and less broken say.
The past can haunt you and taunt you - but you must only visit and you should never take permanent residence in the what was.
Instead, you must anticipate - whether with fear or warmness - what will be.
You have been warned.
Most, if not all, of these words will be ugly. Negative. Angry. Hurt. Corrupt. Impulsive. Destructive.
There will be many things you will not agree with or even like.
But these are words best spoken as a person made of messy emotions and muddled thoughts, not as some unsuspecting character from a work of fiction.
These are words that I have to say.
Because this is my baggage to carry, no one else's.
