You: Long time no see.
Me: Well, I don't see you guys just type on a white page.
You: You know what I meant, where have you been?
See, I've been on this faded, stained micro-fiber couch trying to mentally plan out what the next move is. Something I keep private is our struggles, and the thing is when under stress I internalize, thinking I'm the only one going through it. That's why I go silent, I don't want to post my life problems and bring the whole world down with them.
In this world we are always stuck at a crossroads, big or small we are left in the middle of a dusty plains. Some people are lucky and pick the right way, they carry on and tell their story about how they made in out. Then there is the group of people who end up picking the road that seems right, but when then start to walk it the dirt starts to darken and the scenery starts to shift, making their head spin, their chest tighten and the people around them fade. That's the turn we made, the one we felt was right. That doesn't mean is was a bad choice, it just has more consequences.
If spilling my life was easy I'd do it everyday... These few years have been rough, and at times I feel I should just stop blogging. I feel I can't keep myself consistent, afraid of saying something wrong. My life is messy, very, very messy. In the same breath I am so grateful for each breath I can take, and just like thousands of people I sometimes get lost in the dark thoughts. I wish they bottled Mr. Clean for that... Can you image if they did that?
I am also very frustrated at my book, when I went back to outlining I came to sad realization my characters are set on growing up and changing the story, it's a never ending urge to punch them in the face, if they were real and actually had faces. It's hard enough making up my own mind, now I have to help a room full of toddlers that only live in my brain, it's not like I can walk away and lock myself in the bathroom and have a few minutes of peace in a bubble bath. Oh no, as I'm in the bath making a bubble beard there they are with their sharpies, scribbling on the wall, the sharpies being their opinion and the wall my brain. Writing, even outlining is seriously unrewarding at times.
Me: Well, I don't see you guys just type on a white page.
You: You know what I meant, where have you been?
See, I've been on this faded, stained micro-fiber couch trying to mentally plan out what the next move is. Something I keep private is our struggles, and the thing is when under stress I internalize, thinking I'm the only one going through it. That's why I go silent, I don't want to post my life problems and bring the whole world down with them.
In this world we are always stuck at a crossroads, big or small we are left in the middle of a dusty plains. Some people are lucky and pick the right way, they carry on and tell their story about how they made in out. Then there is the group of people who end up picking the road that seems right, but when then start to walk it the dirt starts to darken and the scenery starts to shift, making their head spin, their chest tighten and the people around them fade. That's the turn we made, the one we felt was right. That doesn't mean is was a bad choice, it just has more consequences.
If spilling my life was easy I'd do it everyday... These few years have been rough, and at times I feel I should just stop blogging. I feel I can't keep myself consistent, afraid of saying something wrong. My life is messy, very, very messy. In the same breath I am so grateful for each breath I can take, and just like thousands of people I sometimes get lost in the dark thoughts. I wish they bottled Mr. Clean for that... Can you image if they did that?
I am also very frustrated at my book, when I went back to outlining I came to sad realization my characters are set on growing up and changing the story, it's a never ending urge to punch them in the face, if they were real and actually had faces. It's hard enough making up my own mind, now I have to help a room full of toddlers that only live in my brain, it's not like I can walk away and lock myself in the bathroom and have a few minutes of peace in a bubble bath. Oh no, as I'm in the bath making a bubble beard there they are with their sharpies, scribbling on the wall, the sharpies being their opinion and the wall my brain. Writing, even outlining is seriously unrewarding at times.
And even though I sound sad keep in mind, this is real stuff my brain and emotions are going through, this as the cheapest therapy I can afford.
I am so grateful to you, even though "you" is a character created by me to get myself talking. Haha...
Okay inner unicorn is done, I wish you a good night.
P.s. I'm calling my emo side Emo-corn (like emo unicorn.)
