Undeclared

bonushumor:

I wish I could be there to witness all the people who don’t know how to pronounce Les Miserables getting their movie tickets　

give yourself a voice.

give yourself a voice. you deserve to be heard. speak up. louder. people can’t hear you. shout to the world. claim the originality in your voice. i don’t care what it sounds like, i only care that it sounds. you deserve this. your opinions matter. your wisdom can shine like the sun, be spread over the entirety of the globe, but what good does it do if it stays silent? if it isn’t shared? if it is kept cramped, hermetically sealed in the confines of your brain? why not set it free into the wind to be carried far and wide across the universe? why not inspire the globe? why not?

i’ll tell you why not, because this comes from experience. i sit hunched over a guitar, strumming until my fingers bleed, singing my heart out until i hear footsteps. once i know someone is listening, it’s all over. i put down the instrument, and put my voice to bed. i don’t deserve it. i’m not good enough for other’s ears. why should people listen to me? i have nothing to say. the sweet melody that i hear from my lips disappears as other’s ears absorb it. or at least that’s how i feel. there are those who will tell me otherwise, but there are those who will agree. they have told me so. and rejection screams over complement, drowning it out completely so all that is left is doubt. doubt and embarrassment and shame. and now i’m swimming, trying not to drown in this ocean of negativity, and what do i find but a life preserver, painted as an acoustic guitar. it keeps me afloat until she pulls me ashore and convinces me that i am worthy of such an instrument.