One thing that I hope outlives me and are compiled together someday, would be my writings. In them you would find my deepest agonies, my journeying through self-realisation, my evolving relationship with God, my deepest regrets, hopes, complaints and so forth. From spoken word, to many questions, and what I believe were some of the answers.
Unlike my life, which I feel needs to be tightly managed and organised, sometimes to my distress; my writings are just not so.
They are everywhere. In random notebooks hidden between Devins homework, grocery lists, in books I’ve been reading, read, just anywhere.
A box under my bed has the vast majority of my youth in it. The more spoken word stuff. And my notes and journaling with God can be found in many different notebooks and places.
Also all the stuff on my blogs or even things on my phone, that I’ve never published or finished.
Just my life. The things I wish people would have known about me, seen in me, or were more willing to listen to.
My writing has been one of the biggest gifts I was given..whether good or bad.