"Give me the words, and I'll say them like I mean it," begins
a song I recently discovered, and I can't seem to get enough of it. I often play it before I sit down to blog...
I'm really scared about all of the stuff on the blog here. I'm scared of trying to write a book. I mean, who am I to think my ideas have any value? Why does any of this matter?

Since I was a young boy, I've had adults be more like friends. Yet with those friendships, they invariably put some kind of head trip on me about my own potential, my own responsibility, the value of my voice.
Now I'm old enough to know that everyone goes through this, whether or not they feel force-fed a new model for human thought and human interaction. Everyone wants their words to make their life worthwhile, to make themselves deserving of what comes next.
I want to be worthy, to deserve the visions I see of how we could all be together in joy and peace.
I don't know what will happen from the blog or the book. Maybe nothing, or maybe as I have dreamed since I was a little kid, there is a reason for me to be doing all of this. Maybe it is a very, very important reason in the form of people reading the information, in them taking it further, believing more, trying harder in their own lives.
Maybe I'm not the only one struggling like this, and maybe I shouldn't be so afraid, so worried.
The question of to write or not to write, to do the book or not do it seems still a daily struggle for me. The more I know, the less I know, and yet this moment in time is just as important as the next, this entry as cathartic to birth as the next.
I never know when I will touch your heart, whether you are here or in the future, whether you are only inside me, a future me or truly other people, coming together through thought to manifest great changes in our world.
All I know is I can't stop trying. I won't stop trying.
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