This is a terrible cliché, but If I could choose just one weapon, it would be a pen. I’m not talking one of those scratchy bics that go all bitty and tear the paper, I mean the kind of pen that makes you want to improve your handwriting to prove to the pen that it isn’t wasted on you.
I choose a pen because the connection between my mind and hand, far surpasses that of mind and lips. I am a fearless writer, I am brave and secure in my choice of words. Confident that even if the final strung together mishmash means nothing to anyone else, that it has recorded something that for my mind, can take me back to that moment. I love the feel of words as I hear them in my head, nudging gently at my psyche. Its nothing like that harsh garbled stream that is issued by my mouth. When I speak, I am nervous, uncertain, vulnerable. My voice feels weak, and choice and order of sounds, weaker. If we could only communicate by written but not spoken words it would be so amazing. For a while.
WordPress is a kind of pen. I come here and record snippets of my life and musings, and here I feel in control. This is my little fragment of the virtual world, and here I don’t need to answer to anyone. Even when I’m knackered from 4 hours sleep on the sofa and unable to think beyond tomorrow morning, I still wrap myself in the blanket that is pickledsparklymooseprincess, and inhale.
“Sometimes I wonder torn between my heart,
Torn between my heart and my mind.
And I feel my body to see if I’m in,
If I’m in tune with what I find”