Archive for the ‘writing’ Category

Writing for writing’s sake…

Friday, December 3rd, 2010

, originally uploaded by Gabriela-Torres.

It seems in the inertia of my life I have lost time for writing for writing’s sake… to just write because it helps free my mind of the flurry of words within threatening to bury me in an emotional avalanche. I miss spilling my thoughts onto paper, inking them permanent or stamping the pain from memories with every stroke of the keyboard. I miss the inherent reach for any number of journals waiting dutifully within arm’s length. I miss my silent papered friend forgoing judgment, bypassing all niceties for the nitty-gritty of reality.

I think I’d like to return my hand to paper, to journal, to write, to conjure all that is swirling inside to flow through a pen into something trivial, a little less chaotic.

Dear Santa, I’d love…

Tuesday, November 30th, 2010

Dear Santa, I’d love…, originally uploaded by dr_loplop.

As part of my operation nice assignments…I am writing a letter to Santa to tell him what I want for Christmas. So, Ole St. Nick, here is my list…

This year, I’d love…

1. Confidence. I seem to have misplaced mine in the past few years and I can’t seem to find it.

2. Good health. For my family, friends and myself. I have been sick for a few years and it really drains my motivation and my good spirits.

3. Productivity. I’d love to be more productive, to work on my sites a bit more, to finish up some projects I’ve started but haven’t finished. To start writing more, maybe even for money.

4. Discipline. I’d love to have the discipline to exercise on a regular basis, this may help me feel better physically as well. I’d also love to journal on a regular basis again. I used to be so good at it! And daily meditation. Seems, Santa, that discipline is something I really, really need.

5. Clarity. In what I want to do, in which direction I want to go, in my overall purpose, in my life’s goals. I have been struggling and I believe everything happens for a reason, even if it is not a good one. While I have been slowed down by my health, I feel like it gave me some time to re-evaluate my purpose, my goals. I’d love the clarity to do this.

6. A good experience for my girlie in her first year of college. I want her to enjoy every aspect of it through the difficult and jubilant times. I hope she discovers that she is capable of anything she puts her mind to and that she is worth love, great big gigantic deep love. She is so worth it. And I really want her to feel that for herself as well.

7. A pay raise for my friends. I want all my friends to get raises, bonuses, level increases, grants. Anything they need and deserve. =) And a sense of appreciation at work. I know many a person who works very hard and feels unappreciated…Santa, please bring them a better working experience.

8. A way back to Grad School. I would love to find a way to go back to Graduate school, to pinpoint what I want to study and to go for it.

9. Intimacy, Relationship deposits. Santa, help me pick up the phone more often to say hello, to invite a long-distance friend to a chat or a local friend to lunch. Let me invite others to dinner or a movie. Remind me how to show those I care about how important they are in my life by making time for them.

10. Gratitude. I want to stay focused on all that I have in my life. To be actively, proactively grateful for the people and comforts I enjoy every single day of my life.

Thank you, Santa. I’ll try to help you out… and do what I can on this end. =) I would love, love, love to help you out in helping fulfill someone else’s list too. =) Let me know if I can.

P.S. Since I am receiving Photoshop for my birthday, you can definitely take that off the long-long-long-wanted list as well. =) WOO HOOO!!!


Monday, April 5th, 2010

“He cannot mess it up, not this one, not her. He doesn’t know why but he recognises that this one is different, this one is necessary to him. It’s an unaccountable thought.”

 — Maggie O’Farrell The Hand That First Held Mine

I am reeled in and cast off, all by you. And I know it is not intentional. You are but a carrot dangled before me, and I, a starving soul, am conditioned to follow nourishment. Are you a figment of my imagination? I cannot tell anymore. I know logically I did not make you up but didn’t I? Fear of this causes me to dig in my heels and stay silent, still…unfettered by the obvious, needed, lure before me. Perhaps they will not notice me following. Perhaps, they will stop urging me towards their versions of reality. I cannot be tainted more than I am. I was already headed in this direction… that you are before me is a fortunate coincidence, serendipity.


And so, I ingest each word you write but fear sending my replies. I feel you are a trick, a way to prove a point… to validate some negative verdict about me. To invalidate a thread of good seen in me. They are probably right. They are probably wrong. It is all a matter of perspective. We are as a society so willing to prove the frailty of others… the wrongs… that which is discardable to us. Relegating a person unsuitable of our time, of our compassion. We want so much to prove the rest of the world is just as unworthy as we feel. And I want no part of that. I will come just as I am and be wretched and beautiful, imperfect, me.

“She’ll have many incarnations in her time.”

— Maggie O’Farrell The Hand That First Held Mine

I am fallible. I do not trust easy, perhaps not at all on some levels. I am emotional, embarrassingly quick or painfully slow to react. I expect immediate responses and take offense when I do not receive them but think nothing of my own folly in the sense of timing, though I do none of it out of mischief or malevolence.

I have caused my fair share of sadness, anger, pain in this world unintentionally, but if whomever is holding the stick that dangles you before me thinks they can pass sweeping judgment on me for sharing love, for being who I am… they are mistaken. I am. I always have been and all emotional crimes—all life crimes have been self-punished many times over.  I have already played unrelenting the judge, the jury and the executioner… I am punished without mercy within the imprisonment of my thinking, thinking, thinking—constantly thinking—mind. And I suffer… and I repent. And I survive.

My weakness for words, for raw emotions gets the best of me. You feel that. You crave that part and get the worst of me. And I still exist somewhere in the middle… two blocks west of left field, in a town we both could navigate with our eyes closed… and still, I am lost and unsteady but I cannot help to follow you, if you are going in the same direction.

Friday, March 26th, 2010

What I cannot love, I overlook. Is that real friendship?
– Anais Nin

I am so involved, engaged in the things and people I love or feel passionate about. I often do let the in-between fade into the background. I am one to neglect that which is not pressing, that which is not invoking in me something. I guess this is both a positive and a negative trait but it is a reality for me. Its not to say I do not get my dishes done and I certainly do not love them but they do annoy me when they stack up. They still provoke a reaction within me. Do I expect too much of those around me? Do I expect them to always be on their ‘A’ game? It is something I will think more about. I know I often go hot or cold. If you do not respond immediately, I lose interest. Why?

I often do not have the time or inclination to respond immediately. Why then do I expect others to? Hrm…food for thought. I am often unforgiving in little ways like this without even realizing it. Albeit, I am also very forgiving in some very real, substantial ways. I guess we are all a little give, a little take. And my flaw is impatience or indifference if you do not invoke in me interest. Luckily, I am fairly easily engaged in thoughts, ideas, conversations and thus I redeem myself with concerted, interested exchanges. But even that has it downfalls as when I am flittering about looking at something new, investigating, reading, writing, whatever… I let the conversation fall flat and do not come back to it till I have the time and inclination.

I believe you should be in the moment, present. Engaged. Involved. Interested. And this is both good and bad. It is important to having people feel heard, understood, cared about. However, it is also a double-edged sword, isn’t it? If I am present, engaged and involved–simply not with you, then ‘our’ interaction feels flat. Yes? But would anyone have me any other way? It is part of my charm and part of my annoying traits…isn’t it?

These questions are rhetorical, of course. I am simply doing some personal inventory through writing. I still like me. And you. and you. and you. and you. and you. and you. and you. and you. And you. and you. and you. and you. and you. and you. and you. and you. And you. and you. and you. and you. and you. and you. and you. and you. And you. and you. and you. and you. and you. and you. and you. and you. In order to give my full attention I must take it away from all other things and thus it is a high likelihood you will experience draught. Don’t give up on me…I will return.

Breathe, write, live

Thursday, March 25th, 2010

If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don’t write, because our culture has no use for it.
– Anais Nin

Is there any better to write? But full heartedly? If nothing else but for yourself. Everyone tries so hard to anesthesize events, moments, even their own feelings. The day of the I don’t care about anything, I will get in your face and tell you off–take your inventory whilst being incapable of taking my own–I do not even know or like myself has grown old. It is tiresome to read social media pages of people telling you the traits they want you to believe they possess, yet rarely do, chronicling every nauseating detail of their days and still they fail to mention how they really feel or how they really think. They rarely share anything worth reading.

It is all polished nothingness, pages and pages, posts and posts, of nothing… for the world to see, craving fake attention…over dramatized…truth left unwritten. Person left unknown.


Wednesday, March 24th, 2010

I used to journal every day, several times a day but this past year or so I have all but stopped completely. I rarely, if ever, journal anymore and when I do it becomes more of a check list, a to do list, a things I need to get list. How sad. I have decided I will get back to journaling. I want to pick up a pen and physically write out my thoughts, as disjointed as they may be, and feel the resolution that comes with getting them out. Thoughts can get so twisted in our own heads. Even the act of saying something out loud can de-energize its momentum. Writing it out can help us see patterns over time or to see how most fears, most problems have such simple but profound roots. And then we can address them, no matter how difficult. It is a start. Thoughts can be destructive and I have found that journaling helps me turn them into constructive tools for change.

So, why did I stop journaling? It doesn’t really matter.

The important thing is that I start again. To make it a habit once again. Once upon a time it was without thought that I would reach for a journal and I left them everywhere for convenience. I want to return to these habits. They were healthy and helped me immensely. So, today, I will set aside 20 minutes to journal. Just 20. And if I have nothing to write about, I will recruit some help from some various programs I have found online. I will share my progress…some leads…some writing tips as this progresses.

Here’s to the power of writing and good habits!