I remember thinking that writing was my escape from many things (including but not limited to):
- Corporate life
- Bad weather
- Sadness
- Stress
- My many mood swings
- Etceteras I can’t recall right now
I also remember thinking that I could write through a bad mood no matter what.
Now I know that such an idea/belief is bullshit.
How? My personal problems have kept me, for three days in a row, from editing.
I booked my tickets to the USA (GUYS, I’M GOING TO DISNEYLAND AND NEW YORK!!!).
I finally coped with winter (probably cuz it is starting to end), work isn’t terrible right now, and (activates shallow personality) I’m wearing this new lipstick that is POWER AND SWAG, and it lights up my existence and the sky all at once, no lie. BUT ANYWAY AND CONTINUING WITH THE WHINING: sometimes you can’t edit/write. Even when good things are happening (see the three things I just mentioned), there can be one big not-so-nice-thing-what-is-this-problem-even that fucks it up. Your heart aches, your head spins, your soul is shaking a little somewhere inside of you, and you just can’t open the door that writing opens, you can’t ignore the panic, you can’t look to the side unbothered.
I didn’t learn much from the blockage, except that I was full of crap in my assumption that one can always, somehow, write/edit.
And that was scary. And that was humbling.