Writing For My Life

after my last heart spilling blog I decided I'd swoop in and lighten the dark mood but only to talk about something just as serious in my opinion (but not depressing), the reason I maintain a blog and more importantly why I write at all.

there are a few reasons why I write and all are valid. first let me say I keep a blog for me and I don't care if no one at all read my blog because as a writer I do it for the love. simply for the sake of writing. I love the art of creative and free form writing. I hate essays and papers (yet I understand their necessity and appreciate them) but I love when I'm able to write creatively or just to get some thoughts off my chest. I write because the way some people are soothed by singing or playing an instrument or by working out or by swimming or even by knitting a sweater, writing never fails me. it allows me to express all of my emotions from the darkest ones to the happiest ones. the words are moving and they flow out of me with no control. it's like I just have to let them take form. I just love writing.

another would have to be for the arts. they're a dying thing in our culture and society. the arts are commodified and made to seem like something everyone and everybody can be good at. something to be unappreciated and something that is ultimately disposable but that is simply not true. everyone has their niche and not everyone can be good at acting, painting, writing, drawing, playing instruments, or any of the other arts. it is true that many artsy people have overlapping talents BUT that is not always true and should not be made to be true. and the arts need saving. so I write and defy the societal expectations to save the arts and it's not something I single-handedly take on. I invite the aspiring photographers/photojournalists, authors, musicians, actors, and visual artists to join me in this fight. fuck the status quo. let's prove that the arts are here and will always be here.

I also write because I hope to touch someone, I hope that my words reach out to someone and inspire them or make a difference in their life and even if they don't I hope that they at least move them or put a thought in your head. I write because every life is worthwhile and if I touch even one other individual out there struggling with themselves and let them know they're not alone then I'm fine. I can sleep at night and that's all that matters in my life.

I also feel that I write from a different perspective, a new perspective. it's something fresh and I want to share it with everyone. I don't want to tell the same stories that are rehashed a thousand times, I want to tell stories that are true to me, stories that have new perspectives on the world and put new voices in peoples heads. I write to make a difference (which is directly related to my previous reason) and by providing my perspective I feel I can do that. I also have hope that maybe my perspective can touch the individual who really relates to me or my stories but who may not be able to articulate him or herself in a way in which they feel others will understand. because I know that sometimes I find a character can say it better, an author can convey a message I may have had all along a lot better than I can. and that's truth.

finally I write to live because the day I told myself that I was going to quit writing was the day I knew that I was committing emotional suicide. I was taking away my one reason to remain hopeful and continue to breathe. I mean literally the day I told myself I wanted to quit writing (I thought I wasn't touching anyone or making a difference) was the day I took myself to campus wellness and started to take care of myself emotionally and mentally  because I know that even on days in which I feel incredibly stupid and nothing around me makes sense I know that writing will always be there to right my world. I know that these words will always flow from my brain to the paper as long as I let them. they'll always be there to save me, to hug me, care for me and comfort me when no one else is there. I'll always have my ability to put "the pen to the paper." and as long as I got this I'm alright. 'cause ladies and gentleman I write to live.

&& I'm out
-- Lexy

this one's been a long time coming (untitled #7)

I used to follow your lead in every way

Hung onto every word you had to say

Knowing that you were leading me astray.

And even to this day I have much regret for that

Compromising myself, letting you define me

You just meant so much to me, I just couldn’t disregard the instructions you gave

You were so wise to me, so loving, so caring

I looked up to you, you seemed the most gracious creature.

I excused so many of the hurtful things you’d say

Without so much as a word as explanation

And even when those words would tear me down,

I’d defend you and say “oh she’s just bitter.”

But looking back that doesn’t excuse all the moments you lashed out--

Out at an innocent child

Especially since you claimed you only wanted the best for me

And while these experiences may have made me the woman I am today

I wouldn’t wish them on my worst enemy,

‘Cause with tears streaking down my face,

My self-esteem was in the gutter,

And my self-worth was diminished.

Although you may have meant the best you didn’t give it,

I’d even go so far as to say sometimes you gave your worst

especially since actions speak louder than words

And even now you hate my kind and hurt me with those same actions and expressions

So see it’s funny when you say you love me simply ‘cause I’ve witnessed you discriminate against and hate those you also “love.”

So while I may shed a tear writing this,

It’ll only because I may lose your love for being me.

Because you may withdraw your support simply for who I am.

And because of the things endured by little me.

But it’ll never be for who I turned out to be.

Or for doing what I know to be right.

‘Cause in your doing “right”

A lot of damage was done

So don’t go judging me

Because despite anything you may “know” I know I’m still a righteous, deserving person.

And I hope your happy unknowingly hating me.

Because I’m happy being me. 

-- Lexy

p.s. if you feel animosity, resentment, or any of those type of emotions exuding from this poem you got it right.

now I'm gonna go watch something funny to pick up my mood. smh.

good night folks. 

Pseudonyms

in light of recent events I've decided to change my pseudonym not only to something more fitting (it is a derivative of my middle name) but to something I like a lot more.
rest in peace "ellie jean," you have served me well but I did not like you that much.
make way for "lexy."
and while I do not wish to erase the past I want my work to be uniform so I've changed all my work to "lexy."
hope you like it as much as I do.

&& I'm out.
-- Lexy.

novels

lately I've been posting a lot of my poetry.
and as I was digging through my files I realized I have a book that I started but never finished.
actually I have several.
some of it stems from that fact that I seemingly have never ending writers block. -sigh-
oh the woes of a writer, jus never seems to be enough time [either]. =\

&& I'm out.
-- lexy.

untitled #7

you have a way with words they say.

an uncanny ability to convey intangible things

but my seemingly beautiful talent is a burden I carry

with great weight.

maybe one day I’ll learn to appreciate

but as of this day and many others I can only hate

because without it I am prevented from concentration

from sleep

from eating

from working

and from being whole, from feeling whole.

yet with it I am prevented from these same things while the words flow out of me

hoping that I can express my pain

my hurt

my love

my anger

my deepest emotions

the only way I know how, the best I know how.

just trying to survive.

this burden, this weight I carry

is my lifeline

and it works both ways.

i’ve jus got to learn to embrace.

-- lexy.