Listen

I want to tell you about walking with nowhere to go.

I want to tell you about how rash I am, and how I don't want to be judged because of it.

I want to tell you about that moment when all my emotions explode out of me.

I want to tell you about the moment after, when suddenly all those voices in my head stop, and I'm all alone.

I want to tell you about the silence that doesn't need to be filled.

I want to tell you about the smell of pollen and dandelion spores.

I want to tell you about the doe who looked at me.

I want to tell you about how reality isn't always as realistic as we think it is.

I want to tell you about how I was always expecting you to run into me, and we could just talk for hours on end.

I want to tell you about my views, dreams, and beliefs about life.

I want to tell you everything I've gone through, and how it's made me who I am right now.

I want to tell you everything.

But I won't. It can't be explained in a blog.

Even if you really want to know, enough so that you remember this blog when you see me next, and we're all alone, and you say 'Robyn, tell me about everything you mentioned', I won't.

I'll want to. But I'll just look you in the eyes, and open my mouth to say it all.

And then that familiar barrier between me and words will materialize again, and even though I may have known what I wanted to say when I thought about it from a distance, once it really comes to it, I'll lose it.

It happens every time.

So I'll just close my mouth, and smile, and make some excuse, like how I was in a weird mood when I wrote this. Then I'll change the subject to something simple that I can keep up with in conversation.

My one comfort is that I'm learning how to tell you everything. I promise I am. And one day, I swear I will actually tell you.

It'll be dark. And even though there may be other people in the room...tens, hundreds, thousands...I'll feel all alone.

But I'll welcome the solitude. Because it won't be real solitude. It'll be everything finally coming together.

I'll be up there. The light will come on. And I'll begin my story.

Which story I'll tell will be different every time. But I'll tell it. And I won't be using words. That would be too limiting for everything I want to say. Besides, I already said I'm no good with words.

There will be no words. But you'll understand. Finally, after years of learning how to convey emotions, and tell tales, I'll be able to make you understand. I'll open up and pour everything out to you.

Providing you're willing to listen to the starving musician on that stage, with dreams too big for life itself.

~Calminaiel~

"Never give up on your music."