Renewed, again
So, I’ve renewed this domain for another year. Is it three years I’ve been doing this, writing this blog? It doesn’t feel like three years, but it is, three years of me writing here. As a whole, I took I’m creating what I’ve always intended, a constantly evolving memoir of sorts. The last few months just haven’t been good, I’m not writing the way I want, I’ve gone off the track in many ways.
I’m going to turn this around, I can’t not.
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Just thoughts
I have too many thoughts in my head, it’s a mess, crowded and cluttered. The solitude, my big, showy, digital self-banishment, that hasn’t helped. Not that it would, not that it could. I mean, my being broken inside, my not being able to write or focus, or feel anything good, none of that has anything to do with IMs or Tweets. I’ve done a lot of thinking recently, mostly when it’s dark and quiet, and I’m alone, wrapped in lonely. I just have to take what’s really weighing me down, and get free of that weight. I’m carrying too much, my backpack is too heavy. I’m exhausted. I’ve felt this way two Halloweens in a row, it’s so… my fault.
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I’m aware
I’m aware that at some point, probably soon, people are going to forget me if I don’t start writing again. I’m sure this is already starting. I really don’t want this to happen.I love words and writing, arranging words into something whole, and hopefully beautiful. I like that people read my stuff, and when someone tells me that something I wrote affected them. I don’t want to be forgotten, and I don’t want to disappear before I’ve written something of real importance, something that feels important to me anyways. I’m just stuck, and the desire to write things, anything, isn’t in me. I’m drowning in anxiety, and fear, and a certain emptiness, and ennui. I hate these feelings, though they’re so completely familiar. The thing is, I don’t feel “lost,” I’m not lost. I know where I want to be, what I want to feel, I know everything I want. I always know what I want, I’ve never not known. This, it’s like a bad dream, and I can’t wake up. I so can’t wake up.
Still, I need to write. I need to force myself to write, something, anything, everyday. Maybe everyday. I need to try, at least.
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Writing
I’ve never had this much trouble writing, at least, not since I started writing this blog. It’s a bad feeling, not being able to create, it’s frustrating. I know I can fix it, I know I can dig my way out if I try hard enough. I mean, ultimately, writing is the only thing I have that’s truly mine, I can’t quit. Whatever I write is what will be around when I go wherever I go after I quit breathing, it’ll be all that’s left. I want something left. So, this not being able to write nonsense has to stop.
I need to pull myself together. I need to write with complete abandon. My writing is about absolute honesty, I need to get back to that place. I need to write like Kurt, and Elliott, and Alanis, writing without safety nets. Otherwise, the writing is empty and meaningless.
