Ever since I can remember (I would say the eighth grade, actually. It was a sad sap of a piece called Why... or some such stuff. It did not even rhyme.) I have used sad little poems and passages to remove myself from whatever awful things I was feeling at the time. Most of these little awful feelings bordered on one big awful feeling from one direction or the other, so it wasn't very surprising, perhaps, that all my writing tended to be of the "nobody loves me i'm so misunderstood where are *my* true friends" variety.
When I first started the blog, the trend continued for a while until I realized there were people out here in blogland who thought I was funny, or talented, or interesting, or some other mild compliment...and suddenly the world wasn't such a dreary place after all. For a while, happy writing didn't really seem impossible to do.
Lately, though, I haven't been very well. I suppose the regular posts about entertainment on public transport and the joys of getting lost made me forget this, but I realized it again this morning - sometimes there are horrible things that happen to you that you can't really laugh off.
I'm not talking, of course, about horrendous evenings spent in the midst of chain-smoking strangers (did you know that water could smell like smoke?) or about the auto driver who insisted on following me through three signals to try and make me acknowledge his vile insults, or about the fiasco at my University that led to my being failed in my final thesis project. No, these are stories I would have wanted to elaborate on and laugh about and try to make everyone reading this (well, the three or four readers I have, anyway) laugh about as well. I do write a good funny story. :)
But these are the stories I've tried to remember and write down for the last month and a half, but which wouldn't come out no matter how hard I tried. I thought it was because I'd lost my words, or the very mediocre talent I feel I possess... but that wasn't it, was it?
No. The only reason I haven't been able to write about all the little things that made me smile is that I have not allowed myself to write about the one big thing that made me cry.
In time I will. And then I will be okay.
When I first started the blog, the trend continued for a while until I realized there were people out here in blogland who thought I was funny, or talented, or interesting, or some other mild compliment...and suddenly the world wasn't such a dreary place after all. For a while, happy writing didn't really seem impossible to do.
Lately, though, I haven't been very well. I suppose the regular posts about entertainment on public transport and the joys of getting lost made me forget this, but I realized it again this morning - sometimes there are horrible things that happen to you that you can't really laugh off.
I'm not talking, of course, about horrendous evenings spent in the midst of chain-smoking strangers (did you know that water could smell like smoke?) or about the auto driver who insisted on following me through three signals to try and make me acknowledge his vile insults, or about the fiasco at my University that led to my being failed in my final thesis project. No, these are stories I would have wanted to elaborate on and laugh about and try to make everyone reading this (well, the three or four readers I have, anyway) laugh about as well. I do write a good funny story. :)
But these are the stories I've tried to remember and write down for the last month and a half, but which wouldn't come out no matter how hard I tried. I thought it was because I'd lost my words, or the very mediocre talent I feel I possess... but that wasn't it, was it?
No. The only reason I haven't been able to write about all the little things that made me smile is that I have not allowed myself to write about the one big thing that made me cry.
In time I will. And then I will be okay.
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