Your assertion that my writing is more an act of bravery, than one of creativity, makes me question myself.
I don’t want to write what everyone else is thinking but too afraid to say.
I know I’m brave. I’m to scared, of what my dad would think, if I weren’t.
I want to make something original!
Maybe you see bravery, in my writing, that you don’t see in your own pursuits.
That’s ridiculous. You’re one of the bravest people I know. You let yourself be open and vulnerable, to others, in so many ways that I admire. I’ve never known you to put on the armor of cruel words. I’ve never seen you over-burden yourself with the weight of knee-jerk-mistrust.
I’m brave in the ways I was told to be brave: Know what you stand for. Take the principled position. Don’t back down to anything – save superior reason or force… Scratch that, definitely don’t back down to superior force. Actually, turn into superior force. Kick it in the nuts. Bite it in the shins. “Remember, son, it’s like your grandpa said, ‘that other guy may be getting a 10 course meal. You just make sure you get a sack lunch.'”
You waltz through a world of stones and arrows with a grace I admire and envy.
You show me that there are ways to be brave without ever meeting another person head on.