A letter to a friend I barely know... A bare letter to a friend who knows me...

If I leave myself alone to myself I find that I do tend to analyse things to death. And whether or not this puts me on a path to happiness or a path to pain I don’t fully comprehend as of yet.
When I write I am full of emotion. I feel like if I don’t write I will either go insane or burst. And so I write to let go of things that I have analysed. I write to find sanity in life.
When I talk about my study I come from the angle of a carefree student. I don’t take my studies seriously but people take them too serious.
In the words of David Gray “if you want it, come and get it” that’s how I feel. If I want it I will come and get it, or it will come and get me.
Right now I understand that I am simply a poet. Like the typical poet… I am unforeseen and unknown. Barely anybody who knows me truly knows me and who I am. I find understanding in cyberspace – in websites like this. Right now my struggle is to understand exactly who I am and what I stand for. If I am to become truly me I must face my demons.
In essence I am basically coming to understand that Rowan McKenzie, an 18 year old boy is not only part of a place in society which doesn’t understand who he is – but he is also part of a society who accepts and readily acknowledges what he may become. The struggle is to knit these two factors, to intertwine these to concepts so that I can feel at home.
My writing is where I am at home – but I also feel alienated because what I thought was my home seems to escapade farther and farther away from me.
The more I write the more I realise that I am not who I was.
The more I write the more I realise that who I am becoming is what I want to be.
The more I write the more I realise that people are going to have to come to terms with who I am.
They are going to have to understand that I am not as simple as I once was. That I am complicated. That I have my own ideas and beliefs. And that I am my own being.
And that is why I write. For relief. For understanding. For freedom.
xx