Loud Mind


I may not say much, but it doesn’t mean I don’t have thoughts, opinions, dreams, or imagination. Whole worlds live inside me, clamoring for a voice, to become gloriously alive. They’re loud inside me, a cacophony. And while we’re on the subject…

I’m not “stuck up”. Just because I don’t chatter at you doesn’t mean I think I’m better than you. In fact, I often stay quiet because I’m convinced you’ll have no interest in anything I have to say, that you’ll find me boring or stupid or weird. Usually I’m preoccupied with my inner world, what I’m going to write, a plot point, that character in the book I’m reading. And by the way…

I’m not “nice”. Oh, I try to be kind to everyone I meet. That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m not innocent. I know about betrayal and cruelty and sacrifice and violent death. I know about suffering and regret and illicit pleasure. I know about hearts that can’t mend, about love gone wrong, about murder and torture and rape and all the ugly things of this world and others. My thoughts aren’t as pure as the driven snow. Also…

I’m not your mysterious Muse. I have neither the time nor the inclination to be placed upon your pedestal. I’m too busy pursuing my own Muse for my own purposes, and they’re fickle pricks anyway. And let me tell you…

I’m not an “ice princess”. My hands may run cold, but my heart burns with love I can barely contain. Love for my child, my family, for this ugly world that is also amazingly beautiful. I don’t have a royal bone in my body; I’m strictly blue collar working class.

So please, don’t make any assumptions about me simply because I’m quiet, reserved, shy, introverted, or whatever you’d like to call it.

I prefer “Verbally economical.”

Thanks for letting me vent. LOUDLY, in written words.





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