I hate that I struggle to write. I hate that there are days upon days when clever and witty things float about my head, but putting them on paper sounds less apealling than crazy thoughts. I suffocate the words and they disappear. I resent myself for the lost creativity and then punish myself for the loss of words that obviously did not matter. But they did. So why didn't I write them? It's a bitch of struggle. Why do I do this? Some times it's music, sometimes it's words. I play a game with them and it annoys the fuck out of me. I need to practice more 5 minute streams of nothing. That's what this is. I set the timer and I am just wrting. For fucks sake.
So many crazy changes this past week. Such amazing exciting holy shit changes. Peace. Super happy peace. Quiet. Quiet once my evil dental work is done. I hope the peace brings the words on paper. Oh I hope so much. I want to write and write. I want to get it all out of my head. For gods sake I need to make all the therapy worth something. I also want the endless stream of dreams and hopes and what ifs to have more accountability. If I write I usually do it. I want more self motivation in my life. Putting it out there holds me way more accountable. I crave that. So very much.
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Hi Fran,
I understand what you mean... and I hope you soon catch up with the writing mode... I think it is just the starting trouble... once we start writing, everything comes... this past week was so troubling and so restless and I thought I could not write, what's worse I thought I am not even a good writer. But then I wrote and i am surprised that I have written or blogged for every single day of the week. I am actually surprised. I hope you could also break the ice.
Happy weekend.
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