Writing SCARES me!
Putting words on paper TERRIFIES ME! Forget words being unsaid, what about UNWRITTEN? Once they’re there, there’s no going back! Stuck to the paper, sticky, gloopy, thick, treacle words, gnawing away at crisp white paper.
Seeing the soup of miscellaneous shit inside my cranium regurgitated up onto a page, printed in black and white, angry little dots and dashes, jostling, jousting with each other for space on the page like little monochrome knights of the realm.
I’ve tried to be one of those girls who journals each morning, but the blankness, the VASTNESS of the white page makes me retreat back into the mind numbing haze of social media. Like the little, pink, fluffy rat I am, I cocoon and burrow back into indecision. It’s like the big spider’s web in Coraline. I can see the vast possibilities of the world ahead but really I just want to build a tent in the garden under the trampoline like I did when I was tiny and not think about anything important or big or dramatic. Everyone is so loud. And unimportant. I want to be quiet and important, like a little wise mouse – une souris sage, as my friend says.
When I grow up what I really want is to be a Sylvanian Family, but for the moment I’m just fishing the lukewarm alphabetti spaghetti out of my mind and trying to create something coherent without spilling the gelatinous goop all over the page.
I’m worried about sounding pretentious
I’m worried about not being pretentious ENOUGH.
My words aren’t profound or moving, but why should they be?
I get so ANGRY I can’t think of the right words to say. Maybe I’m becoming illiterate. My vocabulary drip, drip, dripping away till I’m a scrawny parrot, blind in one eye and squawking U OK HUN on repeat.Return to issues