I thought I might just write a letter / anything to stay away / from books and lessons today
Besides it’s part of my induction / into the literate world / I am a literate girl
I string the words together softly / I lay my love upon you with each line
A gift of improvising / removes me from revising
I made a daisy chain from / phrase, verse, and punctuation
Here recently, nothing has encouraged me to write more than those lyrics – from a song… from a movie. Musician, Please Take Heed from God Help the Girl. The movie as a whole entertained me thoroughly, but this particular song’s tune intrigued me. Catching the word daisy in there led me to pay closer attention to this specific verse and look the lyrics up. And there you have it – poetic motivation.
The truth is, I have a number of things to write about, to express, to share, to vent about. I wish I could simply free-write, just let my thoughts, ideas, feelings, and stories surface with little desire to break from mundane, ordinary prose. Maybe I should do that every now and then. Maybe I should stop overthinking. Maybe, as stated in the song above, I should improvise and remove myself from revising. We’ll see.
Writing is so personal. A solitary task. Only while working on class assignments have I ever had to write with a group – what a tiring and unpleasant task that can be. I enjoy being solo, working and doing things on my own. Again and again, the inclination to be alone overwhelms me and alters my mood. It can have an effect on my attitude towards my BF since, as a result of us living together, he is the one person who constantly disrupts my solitude. The man cannot be blamed, of course, for returning to what is also his home, but a negative mood towards him always results and he notices. It’s unfair. I need to not be so bitchy. Get it together!
There is something about needing to reflect, though, and needing to be introspective, about the way things are and who I am and where I am going. I have to assess all matters, set or renew goals, evaluate my priorities, and sometimes… just… dream.
In writing this, I am realizing that I have always been this way. As a child, when I could better express myself through visuals because my vocabulary was obviously not as extensive as it is now, that’s what I would do – draw. I would search the house for blank sheets of paper, search equally as hard for a nice pen (it had to be a pen, not the pencils or crayons that I had easy access to since they were school supplies), hide in a solitary spot, make as little noise as possible so as to go unnoticed, and draw. Excitement ruled when ideas of what to draw came to me. Anxiety and frustration would strike me when I could not find the necessary materials. Fear would grip me if my Mom caught me. Those expressions were personal, not to be shared. They were all mine. Page after page of doodles, storybooks, scenes, designs, and all else that my puerile, yet unadulterated, imagination could spawn. It was fantastic.
I do not know why I stopped. If any moment in my life can definitively mark the end of my childhood, that would be it. The moment I decided to stop drawing.
In 1999, when I was fifteen years old, a (former) family friend gave me a Spice Girls (HA!) diary for Christmas. Suddenly, I was once more expressing myself, this time through written word. Granted, my earliest entries were, in one word, ridiculous. Paragraphs about a cute boy I noticed at school, how stupid I thought the latest hit song was, the high that I got from shopping, etc. I enjoyed it, though, and ended up filling book after book after book. I eventually started blogging in 2004, all while continuing to keep physical diaries. That is how my writing evolved. Now I had an audience. People actually read my musings. I had to pay better attention to how I expressed my ideas, thoughts, opinions. Friends and strangers alike were interested in little old me? Why? But okay.
I have been hooked since. I cannot stop. I need this.
I feel that in writing, I will figure things out. The introspection and reflection will do me good. I have had spouts of confusion and doubt as of lately. The uneasiness that results is less than pleasant. Meh. It’s fine. Just write about it. Let others read about it. Don’t hold back. This will help. It has in the past, there is no reason why it shouldn’t now. This will be a move in a positive direction.
So stay tuned, friends.
I have a lot to say and tell.