I’m a horrible person to follow. Wait. Following me makes me feel awful. It freaks me out. I have a gigantic ego, I think, but it looks like Swiss cheese; full of holes. The last couple of days of posting after some time away, I picked up 10 (or is it ten) new followers and I’ve been paralyzed and depressed ever since. I felt like, Oh God, now I’ll never get to write!
Please believe I don’t like posting what a neurotic case I
sometimes am. But more to the point is that the blank page itself frightens me, which uses up a LOT of energy, so that when I turn on my computer to write, I don’t have the energy to read and like and comment on other people’s stuff. I do like doing those things but I find that then I don’t have anything left-over for me.
Too, I’m not into the whole Like for Like thing. I’m 56! Please.
Anyway. I’m still going to follow a favorite few, can’t help that. It’s just that I’d like to do some short story writing more, and meta writing less.
I’m grateful to the people who have followed me, I truly am. You made me feel like someone, like a writer. You supported me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I love this line from the Wizard of Oz: I’m not a bad man; I’m just a very bad wizard.
NOTE: I only deleted my Follow widget. I guess I’ll have to upgrade to be able to make the Follow link at the top of the page be gone. :/
Yeah that’s what I said. A place to be me, anonymously. I mean, for personal stuff like conflict, and fears, and heartache, and mostly the usual stuff and probably some bad behavior and questionable decisions, okay. Not criminal, horrific shit, just mostly the daily crap. And just once in a while.
Otherwise this happens: I have shit going on in my life that I don’t want to talk about and that I REALLY don’t want to talk about HERE (Sorry for the caps instead of italics; my cursor is frozen). So I stop talking, which means I stop writing, because I can either talk freely or not at all. I find it almost impossible to just censor SOME stuff. Because when I’m shoving all THAT stuff down, the stuff I do want to talk about gets shoved down too. Also, it takes a lot of freaking valuable energy, picking and choosing words as if walking in a minefield, when all I really want to do is write. And to be transparent.
Whew! I feel a lot better, at least for now. Freed. Not gagged. Flowy. Ahhhhh…better.
Why else be a writer?
Edit: These posts are short, kind of rambly. But better than nothing. So the world can suck it. Which I’m sure many fellow writers will understand.
The last couple of days I’ve been watching TED Talks like I used to read books about writing. It was only through a concentrated physical and emotional effort that I finally pulled myself away and brought myself here.
When I quit writing for a few days, the hard-won ground I gain getting back in to the groove of writing, for the millionth time, disappears and I have to fight just that hard to get started again. I know this happens, hundreds of others know this happens and yet still I, and maybe you, still do it. Or, it still happens. Obviously it’d be easier to just keep writing.
This is just a small post. It’s like an emergency-stop cord I had to pull to get out of numb, out of watching people doing what they love on the TED talks to being one. At least a bit. A bit.