My Name Is Beautiful Blackwater.

My name is Beautiful Blackwater.  Physically, I am fifteen years old, but I always feel much older than I really am.  Or perhaps I am simply older than my body is.  Either way, the thought of a concrete age determined by the number of years I have been on this earth is a foreign one to me.

When I was younger, I was loud.  I was outgoing and vibrant, in the middle of my every social scene.  But not anymore.  I am quiet now, like vines growing on a wall.  

When I lost my outgoing vibrancy, I stopped using my voice.  Oh, I spoke, but I did not speak my mind and my heart.  I did not reveal my soul to anyone except those closest to me, or the rare individual who caught me at just the right moment to prompt me from my introspection to the spoken word.

For a long time, I did not truly live.  I simply existed, doing everything I was supposed to do.  I got up.  I slowly dragged myself to my computer, sat down, and worked the day away, writing papers and discussion posts for college.  When I was done, I knew I should do something that would be worthwhile.  Something to further my writing career, or to help others, or maybe even both.  But by the time my work was over, my motivation to do anything other than binge watch one of my favorite tv shows had been sapped dry.

Now, however, I am relearning what it means to live and breathe.  What it means to speak.  What it means to draw in a breath and relish it, the feeling of being alive.  What it means to want something so badly that I’ll shove aside the fatigue from a long day of schoolwork to create something beautiful.  What it means to genuinely want to help others rather than squandering my writing and empathy on made up tales and people.

This process of relearning living is, for me, caught up in this blog.  One day, in the middle of changing cat litter, of all things, I got the idea to create an anonymous blog where people like me could speak about their experiences, thoughts, and feelings.  I was not — am not — brave enough to speak about the things that mean most to me when my face and name are attached to my words.  After a couple weeks filled with brainstorming and planning and worrying and seeking advice and prayer, I was told to have strength and courage, and I knew it was time to begin.

I am still quiet.  I am still shy.  I still have not found the courage I need to speak my heart aloud.  But then, I do not need to speak.  Not yet, at least.  Perhaps someday I will.  For now, though, I will write.  I will bleed my heart out on paper and hope that someone will benefit from it.  I will live as best I can.  And perhaps it will be beautiful.

I look forward to this journey with you.

Love, Beautiful Blackwater.


6 thoughts on “My Name Is Beautiful Blackwater.

Add yours

  1. I’m so glad you’ve found a renewed measure of purpose. To be honest, I’m just coming out of a two-year’s dry spell where even my most creative work felt more like duty-fueled-by-guilt and less like passion. But like you, I am beginning to come alive anew, and this second birth is more precious to me than my first because I have chosen it.

    There is something about mundanity, though isn’t there? I’ve had many cat litter moments myself, and I think they are the biggest reason why I can still bring myself to enjoy mundane tasks.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Oh, Ossuary, I know exactly what you mean. If I had to guess, I would say my dry spell lasted for almost two years, having been plunged into it largely by fear instilled by moving away from all my friends. Even when the fear was gone, though, I still didn’t relearn how to live. Like you, throughout that time, most of my creativity was out of a sense of “I should” instead of “I want to.” There were a few exceptions, but not many.

      I am so glad as well to hear that you too are coming alive once again. I look forward to joining you in this journey of finding our purpose again. ❤️

      And yes, there certainly is. I think it might be that small tasks like those free up our minds to wander where they will. Sometimes they wander to amazing places, and become utterly life changing moments. I absolutely agree: the chance to go places like those in mundane moments is exactly why they can be so enjoyable.

      Liked by 2 people

  2. Mundane is rather magical, I agree.

    I’m honored to be on this journey with you. I have the cat litter to thank, apparently, but thank you for starting this. Your journey is inspiring even now at the start. We could all live a little more in life.

    Keep on relishing every moment, for we never know which will be our last.

    Liked by 2 people

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: