Of Writer’s Hesitation

Typewriter

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I want to write. I long to sit at my 1940’s desk with a quill in my hand and compose beautiful words. Sadly, I’m not writing. I haven’t written a complete story since I graduated a couple of months ago. It’s not that I don’t have ideas fluttering around my head, it’s just that I’m not writing. It’s a shame – I’m a pretty good storyteller.

So why am I not writing?

I can’t say that it’s because of writers block, as I already confessed to having ideas. It’s not that I don’t have enough time, I work a crappy part-time job and get maybe 20 hours a week – I have more than enough time.

When I picture myself writing everything is very romanticized. Sitting at my desk for hours every morning with a cup of coffee steaming beside me. But whenever I am about to start writing that’s when I freeze up.

I think that part of me is afraid of the process. Delving deeper into my subconscious may reveal things about myself that I’m not willing to confront or perhaps don’t want shared with the world. I’ve always said that fiction tells readers more about the author than non-fiction. Non-fiction is easy, it’s a glimpse into the author’s life, and they get to control how everyone is portrayed and what you witness. Fiction is the subconscious, what they are really thinking, and how they process the world around them – their soul masked by layers of characters and scenery.

So yeah, maybe I’m fearful. And for the first time in my writing career I’m completely on my own, no teacher to hand out assignments, or internship set a deadline. The only thing to motivate my fingers to tap away at the keyboard is me. Me. Me. Me. And I gotta say, I suck at self motivation. Give me a deadline and I’ll get the work done, and damn it the paper will be good. But when left to my own devices I shy away from the real writing and hide in work that is less deep, less personal, and less substantial.

I need to write.

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Of the Downside of Falling Asleep

Girl With Facemask

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I absolutely loathe getting ready for bed, it seems like such a useless activity. All that effort just to what? Pass out and perhaps have a dream or two? It’s silly really.

I’ve always been envious of those who can just fall asleep after splashing water on their face (maybe using a bar of soap) and brushing their teeth. It’s simply not fair. I’ve got my mother’s skin, this means that I’ll be prone to acne for the rest of my life. Over time I’ve learned to control it (most of the time), and words cannot express how talented I am at doing my make-up. I may not do the fancy eyes thing but my foundation skills are top-notch.

I’m also cavity prone despite that I don’t eat an outrageous amount of sugar, brush, floss, and rinse with ACT mouthwash (as suggested by my dentist). This is also not fair. If I start to fall asleep before my nightly routine, or wake up around 2AM after an unplanned nap, I swear I can feel zits forming and cavities burrowing away at my molars. It’s a nasty feeling. Like little semi-dull needles trying to poke out of my face and The Seven Dwarfs hacking at my teeth searching for jewels.

Often I end up getting ready for bed between 2AM and 4AM – this is typically because of my avoidance of the process or pure exhaustion. Even when I’ve been overcome with fatigue all day. When I’m so tired I’m constantly grumbling and whining about how tired I am. When ALL I want is to go to sleep early. Somehow I look at the clock and it’s 1, 2, 3, 4, or 5AM. Then the thought of getting ready for bed is an increasingly dismal one, it’s about a 20 minute process that I never want to do. Sometimes I pass back out, wake up, then finally get ready for bed. Other times I force myself to get up and prepare for slumber.

I’m oh so proud of myself when I perform this hellish nightly routine before I reach the not-so-fun point of procrastinating sleep.

The point is, as much as I love to sleep, I hate getting ready for bed even more. Like, a lot.