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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. |
| 11:26 I'm doing this while sitting beside my bedroom window, which is open, if that's all right. I'm worried I'd have a kid running off down the road if I stepped outside  My nose is a bit blocked at moment so I can't smell much of anything. Some of the stuffiness of my room is being alleviated by the open window. The bin isn't full but it stinks of dirty cat litter - still getting into the habit of having a kitten. I can't smell much of anything else. I'm trying to get a whiff of the coconut oil I put on my son's hair but I can't since it's quite subtle and he won't stay still long enough for me to smell it. I can hear my son playing, he's just singing something unintelligible to himself and running his toy car across the floor. Now, he's banging his other cars together. And now he's walking, the patter of his socked feet thumping on the floor. There are cars going past on the road outside. I'm sure if my son would quieten down for a moment, I might be able to hear the rustling of the trees since there are many along my street. I can hear the creak of my chair every time I shift. It's quite breezy outside and I can hear the wind. An unwanted ad just popped up on my screen with a ding. Oh, and another one. And another. These things usually happen in threes, for some reason. Oh, and of course, I can hear the sound of the keyboard as I type. I unintentionally cracked my knuckles and thought "Oh, I can add that!" but there was no cracking! More cars on the road. Pretty much the same things repeating, really. As for what I can feel, I feel a few things. I feel a bit cold. I feel achy because my back is hurting. I feel tired because I went to sleep really late last night and was roused at about half six and I never got the chance to catch up on yesterday's missed sleep either. I feel a bit of a headache coming on, which usually happens when I've not slept properly for a few days. I feel annoyed, because my husband won't get the hell up and my mum wants me to stop by the shop on my way over to hers, where the family usually gathers on a Saturday. I feel a bit bummed because there is usually an interfaith meet-up on the first Saturday of every month and this is the second time I've missed it. Last month I totally forgot but this morning, my back felt so stiff and I didn't feel up to going. Or maybe I was just being lazy. I feel generally fatigued - because of family, because of friends, because of college, because of writing - the list is extensive so I'll leave it at that. I feel unappreciated, since I've barely made the time to write this blog. I feel like I'm wasting my time, since I'm waiting for someone to do something so we can get out of the house and go, but while I'm waiting, I'm not doing much of anything and my list of things to do has barely been touched today but I can't start on it since the other person could wake at any moment. I'm a bit anxious as I have babysitting duty in an hour and fifteen minutes and it doesn't look like we'll be ready to go for a while yet. Is that ten things? Wow, that last paragraph was really long! And that's twenty minutes! ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
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