A blog and a messed up mind.

I have always wanted a blog. Just a place to spill my soul, well, some of it.
The only problem is words do not flow easily for me, it's as if I have a barrier blocking the sentences from travelling form my mind to my mouth/fingers, I can think of my exact feelings, but as soon as I need to express them the thought evaporates into a mess of confused words. Still, I know that with all my writing for school, and the fact that I adore language and literature I might need to be eloquent. A blog, is the perfect practice. Interesting and exhilarating. I love the idea of spinning tales, even if they are completely true. If only I had the literary skills that the beautiful-minded people who write exceptional novels do. My mind is full of dark, and disturbing tales that create brilliant stories in my mind, only they never reach paper. I want to be like Edgar Allan Poe and be able to cause people's skin to crawl, and their hands to shake with terror. For now, well until I learn how to speak/write properly, I will stick to drawing and creating fantasies in my imagination. Imagination is my strongest attribute, shame no-one gets to witness it other than me. Anyway, all it does for me drive me slowly insane. People say my art is good, my obsessive nature over lines and colours. Only, they do not understand that the images I create are another form of escapism, running away from my true emotions, there is no reality or expression in them. They are just items of superficial beauty. I don't care though, I just hope that this blog will give me an outlet from my previously stifled pain, and stop me keeping all the mad morbid tales in my mind.