“When I was green in judgment, cold in blood, To say as I said then!” Antony And Cleopatra Act 1, scene 5, 67–75
The writer’s block begins where my courage ends. “To say as I said then!” Once, very long ago I wrote whatever came to mind. There are times I wish I could just write every thought that comes to mind and honestly get it all out on paper (screen), but I am not so green anymore. I know that scribblings have consequences. I don’t even trust the hard copy written journal as fragile as life is these days. Once the thoughts are on paper, you really do not have control of who will read those words, how they’ll react or where they will be shared.
Are my words bad, dangerous, hurtful, or hateful? I seriously doubt that they are, but they are intensely private and as long as they stay locked inside, I control them. I only let them out when they behave on the leash and don’t run wild.
Last year I read a dead woman’s journal. That she held on to those journals nearly 60 years after they were written is one thing that surprises me most.
So, my salad days are over and all that is left are a few sparse scraps of cryptic poetry whose meaning remains under control.