Tag: writer

Written September 10, 2024

My soul says to write. I must write. All morning, I have said to myself that I must write. I must write. I must write. I must write. How did I get here? I wrote. How did I get to this moment? I wrote. Who told me I was a word witch? A sister. Do I believe I’m a word witch? Yes. I got here because I wrote. I wrote my story. I write my story. Actively, I’m writing. I can never stop. I must write.

My soul says to write. My heart says to write. My mind says to write. My body says to write. My energy says to write. I must write. I must write. I must write. I must write. I must write. Writing is a lifeline. It’s a soul line. I cannot stop writing. I’ve given up writing before. I can’t give it up again. I must write. Writing is a means. Writing is a currency. Writing creates my life. Writing saves my life. Writing the truth is freedom. I must write. I must write. I must write. I must write. There is no question about it. I must write. I’m a writer. I cannot stop writing. 

My soul says to write. My mind says to write. My body says to write. My feet say to write. My breasts say to write. My energy says to write. To write. To write. To write. I must write. My consciousness says to write. I must write. I must write. I must write. There is no pause. There is no delay. There is no pause. There is no delay. There is only abundance. There is just my words. My visions. My roads. My directions. My intuition. My faith. My ongoing. My rivers. Ever abundance. Always flowing. Never stopping. Never danger. Always a flow. Always a groove. Always a rhythm. Always a rhyme. Always a flow state. Always a flow. Always a flow. Always a groove. Always a dance. I must write. I must write. I must write. I must say the thing. I must write.

Gotta say the thing. Gotta do the thing. Gotta practice the thing. Gotta get out the thought. Gotta get out the word. Because the word has always been with God. I have the word. The word is within me. I must write. I must write. I must write.

How did I get here? I wrote. How did I get here? I wrote. How did I get here? I wrote. How do I live? I write. How do I keep living? I write. How do I dream? I write. I must write. I must write. How do I keep going? I write. I write. I write. Like my tattoo says, I write. I write. I write. I must write. Laugh at me all you want, I must write. Taunt me all you want, I must write. Question me if you want, I must write. Writing is my energy. Writing is my alignment. I must write. I must write. I must write. 

How did I get here? I wrote. How did I learn to write? I was taught. And when I was taught to write, I was taught to read. Who wrote? My grandmother wrote. My grandmother wrote futures and dreams for her grandchildren. She had the dreams. Still has the dreams. Passed the dreams along to me. I must write. I must write. I must write. She taught me to write. She taught me to write. She taught me to write. I write because of her. I write because of them. I write because there were writers in my blood who needed to write, so I write because I want to write. I write because I need to write. I write because I must write. I must write. I must write. I write because my grandmother wrote. I write because my grandmother knew I needed to write. She knew I needed to write. She probably didn’t understand what I was saying but she knew I needed to write. She saw the writer and made sure the writer was born, so she wrote, she wrote, she wrote, she wrote. She wrote all the stories she could. She wrote all the dreams she could. She wrote what she wanted to. She wrote in a prayer, an ongoing prayer, a prayer that was a connection between her and God, like a walk with Esau and God, and they never stopped talking, and they never stopped walking, just like she never stopped writing, just like I can’t ever stop writing. I can’t put my pen down. I can’t stop typing the keys. I can’t stop the relationship with my words. I must write. I must write. I must write. I must write everything down, just like she taught me, just like she told me. I write everything down.

I must write. I write everything down because I’m attuning my frequency. I write everything down bceause I’m changing the world. I write everything down because I’m changing my world. I write everything down because I’m changing and I’m change. I must write. I must write. I must write. I must write the damn thing down, no question about it. I must write. I must write. I must write. I must write. There is no pause. There is no stopping. There is no break. There is no abomination. All there is is my writing and her writing. And we are writing together. And there are other ancestors who wrote, even if it was just there name a thousand thousand times throughout their lifetimes. I must write. Like she just had to write. Like they just had to write. Because they had the access to write. And many of us couldn’t write or read because if you did, it was punishment. If it wasn’t the Bible, if it was an oration of scripture, if it wasn’t the tongue of white man God tongue, you were punished, you were beaten, you were traumatized, you were whipped, you were put in the place of a slave. And I must write.

I must write for the desires, the suppressed desires, the longing dreams to be able to hold a pen and make your own way. I must write for those that dreams to write their freedom papers and keep them next to their hearts. The freedom papers that the white man didn’t have to ask for. The freedom papers that didn’t contain identification. The freedom papers that only mattered between them and us and heart and God and spirit. I must write. I must write the damn thing. I must write for them. I must write for her. I must write for myself because writing changes things, just like prayer changes things, just like faith changes things, just like practice and praxis changes things, just like love changes things. I must write. I must write my way to salvation.

How did I get here? I wrote. How did you get here? You wrote. I wrote. I wrote. I wrote. I wrote. I wrote. I wrote. I wrote. I wrote everything down, even when my mother withheld and trashed paper, even when my mom made up lies saying too much paper will burn the house down, like what the fuck. Her traumatized self could never hold me back because I still found the paper. I still found the pen. I still found the pencil. I still found the chalk, the marker, the pen, the pen, the pen, any pen, any paper, any book, anything, I found it. I always found it. I will always find it because writing is everything to me. Writing is a life line. Writing is a soul line.