Everyone keeps telling me I need to write whether I feel like it or not.

Ok….they could be right.

You SHOULD notice when it is that I’m forcing it by the way. You’ll see a lot of these “…”

Oh yes, my good ol’ ellipses…

At the time they seem like a GREAT idea; I even justify different purposes for different lengths, some having to do more with the look than the feel of a poem or ramble. To say I over use them would be an understatement. So basically, MOST of the time when I write lately? I didn’t actually feel like writing. I guess the secret is out. It’s not that I don’t have ideas either FYI.

I have TONS actually if you care to know. Lists upon lists.

But none of them ever leave those list……

Well, maybe on rare occasions.

And then I go back and I read some of this crap, and I shudder at the possibility that I REALLY don’t have anything to say. Something I can be proud of…

so I shudder…

I stutter…

And I hate it, but I won’t delete it.

It’s…out there now.

What I do instead is to simply not write ANYTHING until I can get back to thinking that what I’ve been telling myself since I was 7, that I’m a writer…..is not just some lie I tell myself. I seem to lack the imagination and that frustrates the hell out of me.

But I have to write whether I feel like it or not. So here I am.

Writing something. My apologies if it stinks, but with all due respect, this one isn’t FOR you.

It’s for me to get SOMETHING out there today. It’s my pledge to myself.

So nanny nanny boo boo…

Here I sit writing “something” despite my urge to prioritize the MOUNTAIN of nonsensical, scheduled, “challenging” assignments that are Literally due TOMORROW. For which by the way, I’ve been given a 24 hour period to complete in an orderly fashion around EVERYTHING else in  my life right now! Woe is me…

I know for a fact these University of Texas “standard” “syllabi” weren’t created with the 30-something, northwest-Austin-dwelling, mother of a toddler in mind; so I try to avoid calling them out for attempting to drive me CRAZY with all the parking fees, bad food options, lack of sleep sleep and IMPOSSIBLE deadlines. Can anyone REALLY read 120+pages in a matter of a few hours? Maybe I’m broken in some way? I know they aren’t out to get me……but I digress.

I am here, and I am writing.

Need I remind you judging others is wrong?

Ever feel like you’re two COMPLETELY different people?

Like maybe one of your “selves” swallowed the other accidentally during some EPIC binge session or something? Swallowed her down within the confines of one of those once a week, “can’t drink just one beer” Friday night drink-a-thons?

Inhaled her all up into her pollution saturated lungs, along-side those sweet yet toxic fumes allowed entry on one of those, “One cigarette isn’t going to kill me” Saturday wine nights at home after the baby goes to bed?

Am I the only one who feels fractured sometimes?

And now without further adieu, my own personal; “Writing though I don’t feel like it” ENTRY for today.

Judge not.

I’m banging on her insides,

Projecting outward.

Wake up! Wake up!

She does not hear me.

Is it hopeless that I toil so?

Is the fight………?

……….Is it…….?

Why can’t you HEAR me?!

You’re slipping……scooch up and grasp tight.

You’re slipping…

So many triggers…….

They’re stronger than me…….and immensely stronger than you as well I suppose.

Good luck to us.

Good luck to ALL of us.