Journal Entry Type #58: Feeling Weird? Every Day, It Seems!

Posted on 09/17/2020 by Pisaries Creator

My posts have become more and more sporadic this month for several reasons. One, I’ve been devoting more time (although it doesn’t seem as much) on my rewrite (both first novel idea and poetry collection). I’ve finished my poetry collection and still working on my novel idea. Two, I’m not forgetting about other things I need to do like cleaning. This means vacuuming and trying not to suck up cords (that’s bad) and dusting. It’s important I dust because I’m allergic to dust mites and let me tell you, I should dust A LOT more than I do. Not good for my headaches but here I am. I used my duster to clean my keyboard. Yikes, it now types a lot better and what it should actually feel like as if the keyboard is new. With everything going on in my life (always remains to be a lot even though I have no children to my name), I do have a renewed sense of willingness to put in the work to get things done. I look to all the kinds of different avenues people do to make extra side money and while I would love to be that person, I’m not at the moment. I may never be that person, but there’s hope. I want to branch out of my comfort zone, eventually. I started working on my second novel idea a few days ago but now it is back to my rewrite. I don’t know which is more of a depressing/anxiety inducing situation: looking at your list of book ideas every day as it’s my desktop picture or knowing that while I’m giving myself around 30 years (factoring in for my lazy days) I have a long road ahead of me in terms of writing accomplishments. I suppose that is the ultimate goal of my existence: to accept the lengthy process of writing (even though it’s already been long overdue in many respects) and to keep at it when I feel discouraged. I try my best to respect who I am as my own person, my own writer, and my own process. It doesn’t do a bit of good to compare myself to others, but it’s human nature. Does it bother me that when I die, other writers will have written tons more stuff than I ever will? Somewhat. Does it bother me that when I die, only a few people will have ever read my stories? Somewhat. Does it bother me that I struggle so much with the writing process? Always yes. But when it comes down to everything I am inside, this is who I am and these comparisons are holding less weight these days. I don’t really need to apologize for my current situation because I’m writing to share my dreams that never came true, my goals that never were lost, my vision that I can’t express in any other way, my creativity that is bound to lead to other book ideas (you probably might never see), and most of all one of my reasons that I am still breathing. Beyond knowing it’s okay to just live your damn life the way you want to (within reason), I also know I want to have more on days than off. I might be the last person you think of as being a cheerleader type, but keep writing writers, keep dreaming dreamers, and keep creating creators.