I suppose the topic of this blog is: why do I only write when I am in a negative space?
I am a person that is driven by her emotions. If I am feeling negative emotions, that is unusual for me. I am a very happy person, plain and simple. Those who know me, would probably use descriptive words like: funny, energetic, crazy, and talkative. So, when I sit down and I put all these negative emotions in black and white, people are shocked and confused. They probably wonder to themselves: where did this come from, isn't she always happy? What is going on with her? I don't even know what to say.
I think it all started when I was a teenager. I used to write incessantly in various notebooks. I would usually only write when I was feeling a very strong emotion, something I did not want to talk about with one of my friends. I would also write volumes about the boys I liked and, of course, I have an entire journal dedicated to my first love. I still have this journal, though I am afraid to open it, don't ask me why. I would write about feelings that I was too embarrassed to share with people. I felt like I had to uphold a certain image of myself to my friends.
And, what image is that, you ask? The image that I liked to maintain in front of others was that of a care-free, enthusiastic, and unique teenager. One of the most horrible things to occur, in my teenage years, was the loss of that identity, upon my dropping out of high school. I became the bad girl, the dropout, the loser. I embraced that image, as well. It seems like I take the labels that other people give me, and I run with them, make them my own. I do this until I grow out of them, or stop caring about what others think about me, in regards to that particular issue. You say that I am crazy? Well, let me show you what crazy really looks like. You want to call me a loser? That's cool, let me show you how much of a loser I can be. The list goes on, even to this day, 12 years later.
I am still trying to figure out what label I am "running with" now. I suppose that I am just trying to be me, but that is where the fallacy of thought comes into play... Why do I have to try to be me? Isn't that something that comes naturally? It is. If I am "trying" to be me, then I am not being me, I am being some idea of me that exists only in my mind.
And, what image is that, you ask? The image that I liked to maintain in front of others was that of a care-free, enthusiastic, and unique teenager. One of the most horrible things to occur, in my teenage years, was the loss of that identity, upon my dropping out of high school. I became the bad girl, the dropout, the loser. I embraced that image, as well. It seems like I take the labels that other people give me, and I run with them, make them my own. I do this until I grow out of them, or stop caring about what others think about me, in regards to that particular issue. You say that I am crazy? Well, let me show you what crazy really looks like. You want to call me a loser? That's cool, let me show you how much of a loser I can be. The list goes on, even to this day, 12 years later.
I am still trying to figure out what label I am "running with" now. I suppose that I am just trying to be me, but that is where the fallacy of thought comes into play... Why do I have to try to be me? Isn't that something that comes naturally? It is. If I am "trying" to be me, then I am not being me, I am being some idea of me that exists only in my mind.
I am frustrated that I only write about negativity. I understand the philosophy of getting things out and putting them in writing, so that they do not fester in my psyche and cause mental unrest. I have enough of that already. At least I am returning to a more normal sleeping routine; stress and a constant bombardment of thoughts keep me up at night. But I want to write about the positive aspects of my life.
I want to have the intention of writing about the cloudless sky, the face of my daughter, the wonder of nature and its positive energy, the relaxing feeling of sitting poolside all day, the wonders of technology, and so on, and so forth. I want to write about the places I have visited, the people that I have met along the way, the uniqueness of every human being, and the smell of the earth after it rains.
When I read my own writing after a couple of days, or weeks passes, I feel like I want to kill myself. I feel the pain, misery, and sadness just oozing out of the computer screen. I would not like to read anything I write after it is written- it makes me feel depressed and irritated with myself for even writing it in the first place.
There are a great deal of beautiful and wonderful things in my life, that are much more apt for writing about than my failed relationships, feelings of angst, and anger directed at myself. I look around, at this very moment, and I am flooded with positive inspirations. The trees, with the Spanish Moss hanging off the branches, gently swaying in the breeze. The mirrored reflection of the pool, inviting me in for an evening swim. The overweight, and slightly neurotic dog, that adores me, but barks at my child, every time Trinity enters the room. The supremely technological phone, which is playing my very random playlist, at this very moment. There is so much beauty in my world. I refuse to write about negativity today! Even still, I have been doing nothing but complaining about my own negativity, which is negative, in and of itself.
I want to have the intention of writing about the cloudless sky, the face of my daughter, the wonder of nature and its positive energy, the relaxing feeling of sitting poolside all day, the wonders of technology, and so on, and so forth. I want to write about the places I have visited, the people that I have met along the way, the uniqueness of every human being, and the smell of the earth after it rains.
When I read my own writing after a couple of days, or weeks passes, I feel like I want to kill myself. I feel the pain, misery, and sadness just oozing out of the computer screen. I would not like to read anything I write after it is written- it makes me feel depressed and irritated with myself for even writing it in the first place.
There are a great deal of beautiful and wonderful things in my life, that are much more apt for writing about than my failed relationships, feelings of angst, and anger directed at myself. I look around, at this very moment, and I am flooded with positive inspirations. The trees, with the Spanish Moss hanging off the branches, gently swaying in the breeze. The mirrored reflection of the pool, inviting me in for an evening swim. The overweight, and slightly neurotic dog, that adores me, but barks at my child, every time Trinity enters the room. The supremely technological phone, which is playing my very random playlist, at this very moment. There is so much beauty in my world. I refuse to write about negativity today! Even still, I have been doing nothing but complaining about my own negativity, which is negative, in and of itself.
So, what I am saying is that my writing is completely based on my emotions. When I am happy, I see no reason to write; I can share my happiness with my friends and family, either in person, over the phone, or on a social networking site. What I need to start doing is to just write, anything. Does it really matter, what I write? Isn't it writing about telling a story, delivering a message, helping, inspiring, or amusing another?
This is my current objective: pick a topic and write. Write anything, period.
This is my current objective: pick a topic and write. Write anything, period.
"Like a Prayer" Madonna
