I have this uncanny ability to go in on these random rants on different social media outlets. But honestly, ‘ranting‘ is what keeps me sane. Whether it’s writing or producing a video or just having a conversation with someone…it’s having that expressive side of me that allows me to be emotional. It is with this expressive form that lets me remain grounded.
I have a strong enmity about suppression.
I equate suppression with oppression, on account of the commonality shared by both words which is the silencing & stealing removal of artistic FREEDOM. I relish in the beauty and expression of art. Art is not limited to painting and watercolors. Art comes in many forms. Art is expression. Art is release. Art is passionate and liberating. When there’s no real way for me to word something or coherently convey how it is that I am feeling, I tend to just write it out. Or listen to some sort of music. It’s in cathartic. It’s my safe haven. Here, in my thoughts — in my own little world — I feel comfortable. There is no pressure or stress on me to be whatever it is that I am expected to be. My ‘ranting’ and my writings give me some sense of identity. Even if it’s for a little while. Here, in my safe haven, I am free. I am free. I. Am. FREE.
I used to always be ashamed of my ranting. I would invariably formulate these…apologies. Truth be told, I don’t feel that I should have to apologize for that. I think it’s semi ironic how certain people feel as though they are allowed to just do and say whatever it is that they want and think that there are no ramifications for their actions. They want to be selfish in their ways and then expect to be able to control how others react to their selfishness. BULLSHIT.
As time goes on and I grow more in tune with myself, I feel more comfortable with being open. This openness — in some weird way — makes me feel like I am closer to my goal of becoming the fearless, phenomenal woman that I envision myself to be. I want to witness what it’s like to be emotionally naked with someone and observe how they handle my truth. Raw. Uncut. Unfiltered. Unadulterated nakedness. I feel as though it is the oppression of emotions that handicaps people from being their most outstanding selves and making genuine connections with agnate people. At times, we get so caught up attempting to fit the mold of others ideals. For me especially, my mental dialogue has always been about my identity. I can feel so timid and conflicted with being a woman. It is a constant, irritating balancing act that I face. I know that a good majority of this conflict and apprehension blooms from past relationships as I try to remain true to being in a committed relationship along with being able to be beautiful and sexy in my own way. Sometimes the things that I do seem to feel forced or wrong. The moment that I deviate — even if it’s for a little bit or in minor ways — from what is ‘expected’ of me, I am nothing short of an outcast.
I’m over that shit.