A Rebel Seed
Some thoughts I had while writing most unconventionally slant-ways across the page in my lined journal:
What is rebellion? Is this rebellion, to write out of the lines? To find a different way of being and talking and sharing in a world of straight lines and one-inch margins and twelve-point font? Is it rebellion to pick up a paintbrush when you “can’t” paint, or belt out a brand-new melody all your own with nonsense words, or to take (yet another) risk no one understands? Is rebellion bad, or is it the starting point of dreams?
(Write backwards or slantwards or upside down if you must. Even recover cursive, if it helps. Anything at all if that’s what it takes to find your voice buried beneath the notebook precision.)