Writing what others want to hear doesn’t resonate with me. There is a scratching and tearing at the mind, like a thing that begs to be set free. The very thought conjures cages and prison bars. I begin to feel trapped in a world that feeds off others succumbing to their desires and ideals. Lies and contrived interest leave most things I read feeling flat and uninteresting. The author is not writing from a place of truth. He or she is writing to appease. There is something freeing about writing what resonates, no matter how painful, harsh or disorienting. I sleep better at night. I told my truth.