"Of course some folks end up finding this to be extremely difficult."
I quote Gary, from the week 0 topic post. He may not really know how apt this statement really is.
I am, as a rule, a private, paranoid woman of paradoxes. I am so used to condemnation, discrimination, and betrayal that the idea of a public post available to people with a mere single common tie has me shuddering as if I've had a bucket of spiders dumped on my arachnophobic head. Delve into single memories to form a creation of hopefully well-phrased eloquence? Share experiences that, while private, give only a little insight to myself? This I can do without fear. I can stay hidden in my metaphorical shadows, I remain unknown. But give a summary of my being? Try and explain the complexity that is myself in one general writing, all too easy to set myself up for prejudices, misconceptions, misunderstandings which I may never be able to successfully untangle..even had I the desire? No...oh no. That is a whole new can of worms, and unlike the boy in the book, I don't care for eating them on a dare. And I've heard horror stories from my year of lurking last season, some pieces of my identity may or may not get me persecuted just like the others. But I signed up for this, did I not?
Curiosity will kill the cat. Nine lives is all I've got, and I've already used up some of those.
I am, first and foremost, a firey, obstinate, stubborn bitch. Or, if you met me on the street, that is likely what you'd think. I am certainly all of those. I am a fire-woman, a fire-dancer. A pyrokinetic shifter of forms, I exude my element. I am passionate in everything about my life. Intense as an inferno, condensed as the core of St Helens, but you'd never know it, never see it. Not unless you could convince me enough to let you find me at the center of my labyrinth.
For hidden I remain, watching and lurking from the shadows, ever waiting. You may never know it's me, flitting just beyond your senses, curious to see whether or not you'll turn to look and see me there. For I am a dancer, a Walker, a tailor and designer, a musician and singer, a healer, guardian, leader, and warrior, and I have scars to bear for this. Each tell a story, if you can read them right, but not just anyone I'll allow near enough to see the words. I am an artist, a creator by trade and nature, one who has paid for the gift, but who would expect me to bring this to the corners of the worlds I do?
Of religion, family, and duty I can say very little. The worlds are simply too fluid to say where one ends and the other begins, and who am I to think I can? They all intertwine and fan out to their own corners of the web. My religion includes my family, my family includes my religion, I have duty and loyalty to the both. These three things are my life, the three places I can focus my passion into, the three places I may prove my worth and use, they are my reason for existing. But I can never truly define them, ever different and ever the same they three remain.
These words say everything and nothing. They give the seeds to find everything at the core of who I am, and yet they will never be grown if you care not to till the earth and sow them as need be. Best of luck to you all in this season...and for those small few who I may have intrigued enough to set foot inside the door, may you remain ever curious, ever intrigued, and ever well while you tread the winding ways.