Today, writing sucks.
It blows, it’s awful, and I do believe I hate it. Five days of daily posts and the terrible claws of whatever it is that makes me want to rip my hair out at the very thought of typing another word, has dug in. Although I feel inspired and have all sorts of things to say, when it comes to jotting them down, I am at a loss.
It turns out that writing every day is far harder than it sounds. I will not admit defeat instead, carry on ranting about the obnoxious tendency of my mind to get in the way of me completing my goals.
This morning, my fingers woke up ready. They wanted to type away and tell the world (or my mother, who is the only one who truly read my blog, bless her) all of the things I want to change about it and how I am about to make such shifts. Alas, my brain and hands aren’t in communication today and will be remaining enemies for the time being.
I find it hard, when I have so many thoughts and ideas floating around my brain, to write them down. As if my mind is far too full to dive in and find that thread that I want to follow. Thoughts become tangled together in a way that’s confusing even to the head that holds them. I have a constant need to fill my head up with information; to start a project and be in motion.
What happens when all this knowledge fills my mind to the brim? Usually, I regurgitate my thoughts to my family, friends, significant other, or a random person at the bar, but this past week was full of weddings and adventures to have the time to do so.
I enjoy spending time alone, in fact, I thrive being with myself and find me a rather fantastic person to be around. But there is a balance that I need, a certain amount of conversation and unloading of information that keeps my mind organized. I’ve heard meditation is good for mental arrangement. Usually, it makes my mind feel far more messy than anticipated. Perhaps within the disorganization, I will finally find the secret to truly understanding myself.