Vulnerability. Lack of privacy. Judgment. Mean-spirited, insecure people.
Those are my fears, sometimes those fears keep me from releasing my writing to the public. Whenever I am sad, longing, hopeful, scratched by pain, bruised by disappointment, I write. Writing is the remedy; In my head, I hear Adele singing. We can interchange her voice with any melancholy artist. If you can relate, you are an artist, no need to verify. You may paint silhouettes and sunsets to personify sentiments. You might dance on top of invisible clouds when life rains down. You may even be a writer.
The moments that allow me to produce my best work, take a toll. At times I run from my first love because I don't want that icky heart-wrenching feeling. The idea that someone will read and critique the result of my most vulnerable moments, enrages me. I have arguments in my head prepared for those small-minded, linear, shallow people - that I have not even given a chance to manifest!
Sometimes I don't want to feel, because I know it drives me toward keystrokes, fallen tears, and a composition. My greatest fear in surrendering to destiny is that one day. someone will be talking about me, out loud, on like television, and they won't even know me. After I have bloodied pen and paper, cut up operating systems and snatched my heart from my chest, I imagine that someone will punch the last breath from my body...with a response.
Fellow writers, be brave, I need your art to comfort me when this moment comes.