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|steppingstones (profile) wrote, |
on 11-6-2018 at 7:23pm
|Subject: whining about writing
|I almost starting typing. And then I spent some amount of time looking for Chrome extensions to to stop woohu from reloading and losing all of my text. And I told myself it was to protect what I wrote but it was also to not start writing.
Why is it so hard to write?
I have so much I want to say. I can't speak it. Why can't I write it? I put it in notes to go back to later. I never go back to them. Well, not yet. Ctrl+C. Is it a holdover from the depression? Where I imagine that later I'll have the energy? Is this not later? All of those other times....is now not their later? When then?
I'm so close.
But what does that mean?
Is that something I'm supposed to let go? Am I judging myself for not doing it? Yes.
Write what's going on. Write this.
That's what I keep saying when I get just to the precipice of being able to write and I recognize that something I'm thinking or feeling is something meaty I can poke at in writing. But then I digress into something else. I don't tumble into it like part of me wants to.
Part of it is how slow it is to comb through a thought and carefully type it out.
So much time.
And not very fun.
Often I think it will hurt. It will be emotional at least. Since that's the point of writing.
But I want records. Of the changes and the progress. So I can write that book. Or that blog. Or that website.
Ohhhhh maybe I'll write out the details for the website tonight! That would be nice.
Or stuff to talk to Nick about. Though that might make me sad and emotional and then I'd want to drink and I don't have any drinks. Ohh I should have taken those beers from Nicks fridge. Wait no, I want to try them with him. I had that thought like 8 seconds before I got it typed out. This moves so sloooooow. I wish I could just transmit my thoughts straight into text..
I wish I could have a conversation with Nick. Why can't I talk?
I still get tripped up. Because I care too much. Because I think it matters too much. I think everything matters too much.
Even though I know it doesn't. And I know what it feels like to feel like it doesn't. It's very freeing. But it's also kind of cold. Clinical. Simple.
But isn't clean and simple nice? Straightforward is nice?
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