I hereby give myself the permission to write in this space and feel the cringe and discomfort that comes with bringing anything into creation. I challenge myself to exist in this space for as long as I can tolerate.

To create is to pin down the restless flurry of ideas, and steward it into this mortal realm, a realm in which things are imperfect, and feelings hurt in a real, ugly way. Most times, the act of creating involves an uncomfortable nagging at the back of your mind, whispering that this simply isn't up to par, and you should stop yourself in your tracks before you taint the sanctity of your brilliant ideas any further.

I am going to open myself up; to face all of it. How much of my heart can I bare? How badly do I want this?

Very much. It haunts my dreams.

May I create?

 Yes, you may.

If people hate it?

 Then you would have made them feel something.

Or worse... they ignore it?

 You may create. Attention is earned separately.