Do you ever just stop in the midst of a piece you’re working on? Fingers slamming on the keyboard one second, then suspended in mid-air the next like an astronaut lost in space.And you come to realize that not only is your writing trash, but the kind of trash where you need to drown it in a pool of propane and light it up in a blazing display of heat and regret and pencil shavings.
It’s awful. This feeling I get when I want so badly to weave my thoughts into words, yet nothing seems to come out right. The words feel so unnatural, awkward, and tilting to the point of almost falling over. This is the thing of nightmares for someone like me who struggles to convey my thoughts through speech, making writing my only saving grace. It’s as if my conscience is cackling at my naivety, eager to hit me over the head with my mom’s kitchen utensils to remind me that “YOU ARE NOT A REAL WRITER.”
But I keep on trekking on anyways, because writing’s the only thing that makes me feel okay. When pen hits paper it’s like I’ve crawled under my sheets to a place of calm, and my jumbled mind becomes focused and aligned…
Oftentimes I disappear from this blog for long stretches of time because of my uncertainty. I become so disheartened by what I’m writing, I end up banishing it to rot away in my ‘drafts’ folder with 2 dozen other discarded posts.
Perhaps it’s also because I’m convinced none of you actually read my blog. And that nobody has made it to this very sentence because the first few words were so unbearably boring, you instead, decided to entertain yourself with a buttered scone. No judgement, I would probably choose that option too.
Since I’m talking to myself now, this is my secret resolution:
Keep writing, Mo, it’s the only thing that keeps you sane. And above all, don’t be afraid to hit that ‘publish’ button… everyone’s too busy eating their scones to care anyway.