A Piece of Me

 

When I used to write my old blog, it was a place where I could say many things.  I wrote about fashion, my personal life, opinion pieces and then in time, wrote advertising pieces for businesses.  The blog was, and I still think of as, my baby.

Although many posts have been deleted from there now, much of the person that I am today is as a result of the things that I wrote there.  The gains in confidence I made, the clothes I wore to put in its pages; the realizations that I came to as my thoughts flowed through my fingers to the page.

I always found it easier to work through whatever was troubling me by writing and that has not changed.

What did change was that my beliefs and opinions grew, as I grew.  My gender critical beliefs no longer mixed with what companies wanted in a blog that they could use to advertise.  Many of my personal posts also had to be removed (because my sister decided to spy, steal, show and tell) which made me feel like I could not write about my life and my thoughts anymore.

Which finally brought me to this new place.

I have been writing various opinion pieces now and again here, with a short story or two; but have not yet made this place my home.  My writing home.  The place where I can write anything.  I want to write as I did before.  Without a care of what anyone may think or need to tailor my works to satisfy a client.

This blog is anonymous, my real name is not listed here and I have no clients to worry about.  My sister does not know that this place exists.  Which makes it special too.  I may speak about her in a future post.  I want to.  When I am ready.  I will.

I have no worries about what I can write here.  I do not have the "following" that I had from my previous blog, nor the Twitter followers that were attached to it.  I am free as a bird to write about what I wish, because I can choose to share, or not.  If I share, the small amount of people who will read it, don't know the real person behind my words.

So what I really wanted to come here today and say is, hello.  You are going to be getting a piece of me.  It is time that I talked again.  Wrote again.  Allowed my heart to flow through my words again.

Let it begin.

Creative Corner - Writing Prompt 2

 

Today's writing prompt is:

A houseplant is dying. Tell it why it needs to live.

 

Jenny looked at the dying Snake Plant in front of her.  “Please don’t die.  You are supposed to be  indestructible!  I’ve loved you, watered you, why are you dying on me?”  The plant of course, didn’t reply.

This was no ordinary plant to Jenny, this was the only thing left that she had some control over, the last thing before everything in her life collapsed, or so it seemed.  In the past two months she had lost her job, her boyfriend had left her and now her landlord was threatening eviction if she didn’t make up her payments.

Everything that Jenny touched lately seemed to crumble away.  Her world had shrunk down piece by piece until suddenly; the only thing that she felt that she still had control over was that goddamn Snake Plant that her mother had bought her.  Now even that was dying.

Jenny wheedled and cajoled the plant over the coming days to revive; convincing herself that if the plant made it, so could she.  The plant ignored her and got worse by the day, with its now brown and black leaves falling all over the old carpet.

By day five Jenny had given up.  The plant was showing no signs of recovery.  She started packing boxes up around it, readying herself for the move back to her parent’s place.  She didn’t know what road lay ahead of her but couldn’t see anything good.

On moving day, Jenny was carrying the last box out of her apartment when something small and green caught her eye.  Hidden near the centre of the plant was a small green shoot.  New life amidst all the decay. 

The plant went into the box and Jenny left the apartment with a small smile on her face.  Maybe things would work out after all.