Sunday, January 30, 2011

In a Certain Slant

Recently, I had the option to recite one of my poems in public, but I choose not to. I told myself that as a reporter, I couldn't interact; had to stay neutral. But even before I was assigned to cover the event, I thought I'd like to go, but I won't read.

It's not rejection I fear. I've had that my whole life. No, I think I fear acceptance. I couldn't risk someone understanding my poem. Can I handle giving a piece of myself to a stranger? And if someone takes it, will I ever get it back? And worse yet, will they love it like I did?

Maybe I just want to be special. Isn't that what the teachers have always told us? "You're unique." "Don't be afraid to be yourself," and all that other crap. And how can I be special if a complete stranger understands me? Then there's the true fear, what if I'm not special? What if, I am just average?

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