Okay, so as I was trying to fall asleep last night because like most of us, I have to get up and work for a living, I thought about a short story I could write, how I would change my introduction to my next novel idea, the poem I wanted to write over the weekend as a break from rewriting my love story but never did, and the unnecessary desire I have to go back to coloring or putting together a puzzle (all in the name of a little bit of procrastination, a little bit of guilt for not working on either one, and a little bit of wanting to calm my nerves inside my body).
I spent last Friday night decompressing from the work week and watched some TV before going to bed. Growing up in the 80s and 90s, I think a part of me is having a midlife crisis if there is such a thing without going into too much detail. Something has shifted within me and for those who are spiritual, you know what I’m talking about. I’ll tell you what hasn’t changed in me and that is the aggravation of when someone tailgates me into the parking lot so much that if I was to step on my brakes, the other driver would have no way of not hitting me. I call it a car enema. My car doesn’t need one and I don’t need the after effects of it either.
Getting back to my writing, I kid you not that after I got done rewriting on Saturday into Sunday morning, I stayed up another 3 hours because of it. I stopped writing at one in the morning to stay on track with the hours I’m awake and asleep during the week. I should’ve just kept writing. I must find a way to turn off my mental chatter. While there is a primary reason for every novel idea I want to write, two in particular will have consumed me to the point I didn’t think possible. Well, a part of me realized this because these stories have been with me since high school. It can get a little overwhelming, but this is how the mind works with someone creative and who has to get it out on paper.
While many writers can vomit out a novel in a month or six months or even a year, I’ve only done that two times and just the first draft and that was when I was only in school and had nothing else going on. Despite the pressure I put on myself, I’m not a fan of the phrase “no excuses” especially when it comes to anything. If it were that easy, I’d be exercising and writing all the time. Then again, I have a family member who reminds me to talk less and act more. Point taken. I don’t know what the purpose of this blog was except to spew out the energy that built up over the weekend.
I’m at the point in life where apples should be cut up because they are easier to eat and telling people not to brush their teeth right after eating an orange as it wears away teeth enamel is considered helping others. Every so often in the back of my mind there are other things such as what someone said to me over 20 years ago. The tortured artist or writer exists within me because of my genetics and human tendencies. Certain things shouldn’t matter anymore. Life can consume you until there’s nothing left but a broken mind and body, but at the same time lead you to realize you’re a living breathing human being in a time where most anything is possible. And that’s a great feeling, so do what you need to do (within reason) because no one else is going to do it for you.