Censorship

It never takes a lot for me to feel like I must infringe on the freedom of my own thoughts. While many are living their lives celebrating the first amendment, I take part in this lull and sort’ve fulfilling censorship. Despite the fact that my personality has always had the tendency to scream out the exact opposite of reserved, what people fail to realize is the mass amount of bound thoughts and expression I own. People who have had the opportunity to get close to me notice and surely do judge me as a suppressed soul. Maybe so? Sometimes I can beg to differ in that I do genuinely believe that I am living… just a lot more cautiously than others. My future and endless possibilities stay at the forefront of my mind and I’ve never been the type of person to allow unnecessary banter to ruin that (sometimes, hence my here and there boisterous tweets). Yes, my passive manners of expression have taken a toll on my lifestyle, but not significantly. I laugh at myself every time I open a new social network account in that my first steps are to discover the privacy settings. Beyond those reasons I do know that my “censorship” also lies in my inability or rather disability to trust. I never thought impulse served as a great solution to much even in communication. I’d rather not pacify folks by “meeting them halfway” at the expense of my guard. It takes time to find safe havens for my thoughts, so before I let the jog in my mind end, I’d rather keep them there running until I know it’s worth sharing them.

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