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 Well, not so much fun and leisure as...get some damn writing done, you fool! |
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A while ago, I attended a writers' workshop and the lady who hosted it told us all to go away with this bit of advice - to write for just ten minutes a day. I was determined to go ahead with it and I did...for two days. So today I remembered that I'd resolved to do so and I whipped out my journal and wrote for fifteen minutes. I'm typing out pretty much the same thing that I wrote earlier, with some differences. I find I can go a lot more in-depth when I'm typing than when I'm writing by hand. Writing by hand is such a chore! I've struggled with loneliness a lot throughout my twenty-nine years. I struggled with it when I was the only one home with my mum when I was a teen and everybody else had other places to be. I struggled with it after marriage and when we moved into our own house for the first time. I struggled with it after my son was born and I felt torn between pursuing my writing and being a good mum, because my culture seems to indicate that a woman has absolutely no chance of living her own life - or at least, she has no chance of attaining any goals she hasn't already attained - once she has children. I feel it occasionally still, even though I get so little time to myself nowadays that any alone time is simply awesome. I've tried to come to terms with the idea that being alone isn't a bad thing - and a lot of the time, it isn't. My friends don't live nearby so I don't get to see them often, and even when I do, I feel like there isn't much depth to our conversations. I'm surrounded by people who do not think like me, who do not share any of my interests and hobbies. I feel like I've become desensitised to isolation. Loneliness is my preferred way to be. I walked into my college cafeteria at lunch today and it was the usual hubbub of activity. Youngsters walking around, chatting animatedly, shouting across the room, laughing, eating, socialising. I could recall how that clamour wouldn't have bothered me ten-twelve years ago, when I would have been one of the youngsters talking excitedly with her friends. But, as this moment, I just found an out-of-the-way little table and sat down. I watched the crowds for a while, wondering why it was only at moments like these that the sense of isolation became so strong. In the middle of a crowd, I feel most alone. |
| 23:49 Cutting it close today! I've been out a good portion of the day. Anywho, the challenge prompt for today is a stream of consciousness or poem regarding something I do every day. A bit perplexing - if I do it every day, it must be something droll and which doesn't require a lot of thought and effort. Why write about something like that? We tend to skim over the small details, right? How about waking up on a morning? Waking to a child's annoyed cry, With great reluctance do I open my eyes. In that moment, there is no greater loss Than waking too soon from a peaceful rest. I shut my eyes again, Hoping to see that elusive friend, Who only comes when you don't want it to But departs when you open yourself to it. I squandered my youth. I didn't appreciate a good snooze. Now I regret and walk around half-dead, Wondering "Will I ever catch up on my rest?" YES! TEN MINUTES! And before midnight :D ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
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