when i fail to write, life becomes overwhelming. my mind cries out at the weight of the world that presses against it. illogical thoughts form and find their way to the frontal cortex. my heart shrinks and my psyche longs to flee.
unfortunately, there’s a fine line between writing and not writing. a fine line between keeping the resistance at bay and allowing it to overwhelm me completely.
it takes courage to live. to write.
writing is easy, yet equally difficult. when i fail to write one day it becomes easier the next. like a game of kick the can, i deny the words within. no, it’s ok. i will write another day.
but another day does not exist.
despite the burden upon it, my mind’s eye can easily envision the words on the screen. one word at a time, i type them, not allowing the cursor to blink but a few times every few seconds, while the words spill forth in a stream of chaotic consciousness that manifests as coherent thoughts and phrases and sentences.
at least, that’s what i see in my mind.
starting to write while overwhelmed is not an easy proposition. the mind races, any number of thoughts and emotions swirling about in a dizzying array inside my head. it prefers the less stressful vision. why do the work when it’s already been done up here?
why do the work?
because it is my work. mine and mine alone to do. no one else will see it done.
this thought focuses the mind. the dizzying ceases. the mind sharpens. perhaps not entirely focused, but the words form, take shape, on the screen. in fits and starts, they come into existence, forming clauses and sentences. entire thoughts and ideas. scenes or dialogue.
i come to life.
