I remember being here when I was alone.
I imagine those who stumble upon by blog as those just walking by on the street.
I’m walking down the street by myself watching you in your own worlds walk past.
I imagine it snowing.
And the streets are lined with light poles wrapped in bows for holiday seasons.
After rebranding, it’s as if that home disappeared.
I know it hasn’t but in my mind, it’s like I’m wandering in circles now wondering where to go.
I know I don’t have to write every day.
And even if you aren’t the same person who walked past yesterday, I still miss you.
I don’t always have something of value to share.
That’s not why I became a writer.
When I started helping more people on their journeys through spirituality and personal development, everything I began to speak was truth and fact and motivational.
I wrote because I was alone.
And sometimes sad
and sometimes so lost I wasn’t sure where to go other than—-
Sometimes I wonder why I even started in the first place.
Shit, I don’t know what I’m doing. Does that mean I’m stopping?
No. No way in hell.
And that’s only because the deepest part of me is telling me not to.
This is something I have to do.
thewritingsofnatalia is something I have to do.
And I need someone to continuously slap me in the face to tell me, REMEMBER WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE!
So I don’t forget.
Because sometimes I do.
And I get caught up.
And it makes me cry.
But what can I do??
It’s late and I miss writing like this.
This is nothing of value—
But I hope you hear me as you have walking past before…
I don’t know what this will become.
I don’t know if people will ever read my words or buy my books or walk into my store or learn from me.
I don’t know.
But I know I like to write.
And I like to listen to music and scream the words and cry.
And I liked when this page was my personal blog.
Will it ever become that again?
I don’t know that either…
I just know one day,
I’ll have the answers.
And everything will be worth it in the end.
At least that’s how I imagine it…
Are you still there?
I hope so.