Remember, remember...

There is a ghost that haunts me. Whispering scratches claw at my arms leaving tiny red bumps that burn against my pale white skin. And it whispers on gnawing at my soul-box window pane, ripping out the wild flowers and transplanting petunias and decorative foliage. And it continues, unceasing never dying, to subdue my fancies and inclinations, paint white over the colour and lines on my soul-wall doorway. The art and grace of those lines blanketed, disempowered… the inevitable confusion of “who am i?” and “do I dare?”

And to remember the I, the me, the be here now. The strength, the arms length boundary line that means nothing no how.

What goes on from here.

There is a ghost that haunts me. Luring and teasing me away from my soul-heart artery. Pumps my veins with toxic thought, changes my mind. How?

What commitment have I made to stand by confusion and fight against my love affair with life? Why do I forget so well?

I try to fight that commitment every time I re-start this blog. This will be my fourth time. Every time I come here my heart is telling me to develop its voice… To forget the ghost.

So I'm back. Thanks to a fellow blogger for reminding me about life’s lessons. I’m not sure what this blog is about, just that it’s a quest for voice. A quest for expression. Something to do with building confidence and figuring out those commitments that have been holding me back.