I forget why, but not too long ago I was reiterating to a friend what it is I do every day. Maybe it was my husband and I was saying YOU BETTER APPRECIATE ME!, although I think that was an inner mind scream instead.
No this time, I was explaining my various jobs and responsibilities, and as I listed the bullet points – ghost blogger, article contributor, script writer, editor and letters rehasher – my friend exclaimed, “That’s a lot of content!” and it stopped me, because it IS a lot of content; words coming up and splashing onto pages, which has stolen posts from me I wish I could write here.
I’ve faced quite a debilitating rush of writer’s block lately, yet as I say it I know that’s not right. I’ve been writing, a lot, every day, massaging vowels and consonants and syllables into sentences or dialogue or something not crappy, it’s just not writing on my blog, truly, my favorite space.
I began to over think things (I know! So uncommon for my normally synapse-less, non-firing brain cells). Wonder if I could write, just to WRITE, you know? Not for money or deadlines, but for pleasure for the endorphins, a commodity completely eluding me, and not in a bad way. Now is the time to work. I am building something, I am constructing a life, a pattern, a going-for-it, that truthfully? Has always escaped me. I’ve coasted a long while, doing what I’ve needed to do, still giving in to rest and freedom from work. I can’t do that now. If I want momentum to do what it must – grow – then I need to be on the track with it, not stepping off, not even for a second.
Or maybe that’s my inner mind scream.
I’m only trying to say that I’ve missed being here and conversations with my tribe and writing just to write.
I’ll reclaim it, I can’t not, it’s just that for the moment? I need to follow my train.
What’s happening with you over there behind the screen?
I want out of my head for a time.
This is not edited, and I apologize for that; I only felt I had to put words to fingers and GO.