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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. |
| 18:27 Normally, silence is a boon. I love it. I'm generally a quiet sort of person (unless I'm in the right company) so I appreciate having time to myself. I like the silence because that means there are no annoying people to deal with, including the itty bitty little boy I gave birth to :D But sometimes the silence is oppressive. Occasionally, when I'm feeling lonely or I've had people staying over for a few days and they've left, taking all the joy in my house with them, it feels too quiet, too calm, too still. In those moments, I feel like I want to scream at the walls. But then I might wake the little boy up. Singing helps. The silence recedes and I put my feelings into my voice in a more productive way which doesn't involve messing up my voice and my throat. Other than the silence though, I'm doing OK. My niece and nephew were over earlier but this is the last day both of them will be home before the next school year starts up. My niece is returning tomorrow and my nephew starts on Wednesday. My son loves having people over. He's a much more social creature than I am - he wants to explore new surroundings and meet with people. I suppose I might have been like that once. A very long time ago. Anyway, I was going to write about writing but never mind. I'm done :) 18:37 ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
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