My mind is my space.

My mind is my space and it is a place I like to call my own.

Or is it?

You see I have all of these ideas, all of these creative expressions which I feel compelled to explain, to provide, to expose and to CREATE. Yet, I do not express them. Therefore, is my mind my space or does it belong to someone else?

If it was something I could truly lay claim to, would I be fearful of what others would think? Would I quietly write to myself, hoping to be unnoticed but still hoping to be asked, then only to deny to others the music that my soul sings softly to itself? Is it denying others? No, I do not think so, that would imply a sense of arrogance which I do not intend. You see I think it is ultimately denying myself. Another person on the planet will likely not be affected by my writing or my not writing, but I will be. You may say this "turtling" is then a method of self preservation wherein I can become the hermit and nothing can harm me. Crazy? Perhaps. But even you can not say you have not felt the same.

You see, nothing which we think is private actually is. These feelings which we feel so isolated by are so commonly held by the multitudes that it is laughable that anyone should ever feel original. But aren't we original? Hmm, that is a tough question. I would like to believe I am, but how can I when all around the world exclaims that we all have more in common then we believe. So perhaps our personal reality is original and the individual manifestations of these realities are common. Would that not imply that our personal expressions of our reality are not the property of ourselves; our psyche, but the domain of the public?

I must admit I have no answers. All I have is the music of my soul, the sound roars in my ears and I will contain it no more.

I now see my words laid before me and my confusion of ideas still feels tangled, yet somehow more tangible, and I believe I can sleep now.

Adieu.