I love writing, as you can probably tell from the title. Writing, in my opinion, is the best form of self-expression. I’ve tried things like painting and drawing (fun fact: as a child my dream was to be a cartoonist). I quit because I thought I wasn’t any good at it. Which I wasn’t, but I wish that I hadn’t quit. If I hadn’t quit then I might be really good at drawing today…but alas, I’m not. I couldn’t get into painting because there is no clear direction in which to go when painting. I really admire painters and people who can easily paint. By “easily paint” I don’t even necessarily mean talent I mean just people who can pick up a brush and paint what they want. I could never do that.
I started writing when I was a child. Back then I was still drawing and I still wanted to be a cartoonist but I also wanted to be an author. I believe it was the 4th grade that I wrote my first story. It was 60 pages exactly and I was really proud of it. Back then was also when I started reading a lot of manga and watching anime. So the story read like an anime if that makes sense. It was cringey. But still, I’m proud of my little 10 year old self. Also I didn’t type it. I wrote the whole thing by hand. It was a typical love story with a love triangle in the later chapters.
As I got older I wrote another story that spanned over several spiral notebooks. It was about a band (I was going through a heavy metal/punk phase). It was your typical sex, drugs and rock n roll story with romance. I started it in middle school and I tried to finish it in high school, but I had quite a hard time. To this day I have yet to finish it.
Something that I’ve noticed is that the kind of stories that I want to tell, change and evolve. That is something that I’ve seen all throughout my writing. When I was writing the story about the band I noticed that as the story went it on, it became less juvenile. As I grew and my writing improved, my story reflected that. It’s really cool in my opinion. Maybe other writers can relate. My growth as a person and as a writer is also the reason that I don’t finish most of my projects. I’ve started so, so, so many projects and honestly the only one that I’ve ever finished is the very first story that I’ve ever written. I’m currently working on something that I do plan on publishing. Man, writing is a process…a great one, but still a process nonetheless.
I love the way I feel when I write. It’s like-things just flow, you know? When I write I can feel the creativity flowing from my body onto the page and making words. Words that make characters and these characters produce feelings and they do actions and they make mistakes and they save people or they kill people or they go to sleep or they scream or cry! The possibilities when you write are endless. This is why I say that writing is my passion. I can do it forever. I used to stay up late and write chapter after chapter for as long as I could before I pass out. I feel alive when I write, it is so much fun. I cannot wait until I finish this book that I’m currently writing. Actually I take that back, because I always form attachments to characters and I just dread it when the book is coming to an end I have to say goodbye. It’s like saying goodbye to a friend, a friend that I created and formed and sculpted.
Anyway, I love writing.
Thank you for reading,
I really am. This is something that I’m not proud of. My feelings get hurt easily and holy crap. Holy Crap. I really really really really really really really really REALLY wish that I was one of those people that could take anything thrown at them and not react. Or that I was one of those people that could take it and throw it back with equal or more intensity. But alas, I’m not. Do you wanna know what I do instead?
I cry. Or I’ll hide my face so they don’t see my reaction. But they can see it. I hate giving anyone that satisfaction; maybe it’s because I’m a millenial that I have this issue. I’m not saying that I want to be some soulless monster but I just…I don’t know. Things would just be easier if I could turn off my feelings sometimes. I’m sure that that’s how a lot of people feel. When there is an issue I’ll know for a fact that it was either my fault or someone else’s or it’s in the past or whatever, I’m basically saying that I know all the logistics of what’s happening and why. So for me when I cry it’s this physical reaction that I feel I have no control over. When I think about the issue or try to solve it I don’t want to cry but I just do. Then you know what happens? I get looked at like I’m crazy. I just wish that someone would understand that crying is just this physical reaction. I know everything but, I don’t know why I’m crying. I wish that people would understand that and then just leave it be. Just leave me to solve the issue or help me solve the issue-just don’t look at me like I’m crazy for crying.
It’s not even that nasty, sobbing, nose dripping crying either. But, I am sensitive. That’s something that I hope to fix in the future. I hate being affected the way that I am. I am sensitive to people’s words and actions and to the way that they look at me. I see others and they seem unaffected by any of those things or at least they have perfected the “poker face”. This is the method that seems most feasible. I’m getting better too. I do my best to keep a straight face and think about something else, ignore the sadness or rage brewing in my belly and think about something nice…like cake or F is For Family(great show on Netflix, NOT for kids). I’m not alone in feeling this way right? I don’t feel alone in this. Like I said this may just be a millenial problem or it could just be that some people are more sensitive than others.
Speaking of sensitivity is there any truth to a person possessing the ‘highly sensitive’ trait? Or is this some new generation mumbo jumbo? Because a lot of that seems to apply to me. I would love to blame something like that for me being the way that I am but it seems like an lame excuse…If it’s not an excuse, great. Then I am a highly sensitive person, if it’s nonsense then I’m just sensitive. Whatever.
Thanks for reading,
What is love? Baby don’t hurt me…The Haddaway song lyrics resonate in my head when I think about it. Love that is. But seriously; what is love? I feel a little dumb asking this question but surely there are others out there who also think this way, right?
Love is complicated. Love is blind. Love is pain and joy. Love scares me. I say that maybe because I’m inexperienced. I’ve only ever been on one date in my twenty years of life and I’ve never had my first kiss. So when I watch movies and hear songs about love I just can’t understand where their coming from. When I am with my friends and someone has their significant other with them and their doing their couples stuff I just can’t help but be confused.
Here is what I don’t understand. How is it that these relationships are formed? I have difficulty making friends. I’m very introverted. But, there are plenty of introverted people in the world that get married and have relationships. So naturally I ask myself, what am I doing wrong? I could go on and on about what I think is wrong with me but that is for another post. I don’t understand how people get to that place where they are so comfortable with each other and then their vulnerable…it almost makes me uncomfortable. I just don’t understand how you can be that close to someone who you haven’t even known your whole life. I, like many are most comfortable in the company of my family. I’ve had friends whom I’ve considered close but I just can’t imagine being close enough to share their everything with another person.
Maybe I’m just being silly about this. Maybe all of this is just because I’m inexperienced. I was even uncomfortable on that one date that I went on. I only agreed to go because I thought that it would only be right to give the guy a chance. Maybe we would click instantly and fall in love or something. But nope. I wasn’t attracted to him at all and the food we got wasn’t that good.
And (yes I am perfectly aware that you aren’t supposed to start a sentence with the word and. But guess what? I’m gonna do what I want) another thing. In the past according to those close to me I don’t know what love is and or I certainly have a funny way of showing it. I reacted with an incredulous look on my face at the accusation. I demanded evidence. They said that I don’t think about them, that I don’t stand up for them. That I don’t do anything for them. I immediately thought back to the things that I had said to them. Kind words, thoughtful gifts, etc. But these things weren’t enough. At the time I didn’t understand where this anger was coming from. They didn’t feel loved. I didn’t know what I had to do to prove that I loved them. I stayed silent and took the verbal beating and I tried to think about what I could do to improve my situation. To this day I honestly still don’t know what I am to do about this. I feel lost and confused and like they will always feel unloved by me. Maybe the problem is that I don’t know how to show it. Through doing favors for them? By giving them something special on their birthday? But will these make a difference? Love is confusing and intricate and complex and I don’t know…Yeah. That’s it. I don’t know.
Thank you listening to me.