Insomniac Nightmares

“Write what you know,” the sages say. I try. Not always successfully.

“Layers” marches towards its’ end (and there will be another morsel tomorrow, my pretties, likely the penultimate one) and as it does I wonder what else I will scribble. There are ideas, of course, and Believe Me to work on, but there are other stories, dreams that have not been shared, thoughts that go unheeded.

I worry, you see.

I worry that someone who might read them will judge me for them. Will take them wrong and be hurt by the things that the brain conjures when all the filters come off. That someone will believe it references them when it’s a jumble of experiences and thoughts plastered together from a lifetime of experiences.

Our dreams aren’t exactly autobiographical; the writings inspired by them even less so. But others sometimes think they are.

What of you folks out there? Is there something you would write, paint or create that you don’t set down because you fear the repercussions or recriminations of those who might think they see themselves or the things they’ve done in between the words or brush strokes or notes?

Drop it down below. Anonymously, if you like. Get it out of the system. If you want to write a post about it and link it down there, that’s an option, too.

It’s a new year, and while that’s all about new things, sometimes it means disposing of the old things if only so there’s a clean room to fill up.

“Layers” has been the start of that, for me. There will probably be more. What about you?