Inexpression
June 20, 2009
It’s easy to talk of the gifts of being a writer. Words, sentiment, and description come easily. Subjects to talk about flow like wine in summer.
But one of the burdens of being a writer comes from growing accustomed to expressing yourself. When the day comes, and they DO come, sometimes infrequently, and sometimes more often, when you find an inability to let out how you feel/think/see, it makes it pretty damn near impossible to sit in front of a screen, and stir the hearts of others, wherever they are.
I thought of my readers all day Thursday. and Friday. Wondering why I couldn’t bring myself to write the latest blog I have in mind. It’s funny. It’s wry. It’s philosophical. It touches on elements we’ve all experienced. (It’s like a summer blockbuster!)
And there it sits now, in my brain, completely unwilling to commit to keys and page.
So instead of forcing myself to hand you a shadow, I give you my emptiness instead. Temporarily…
I can trace the line for you of origin. I’ve been tracing it myself..is it from the recent romantic separation? is it from my spat with a friend, only just this week resolved? is it from the daunting task of co-organizing a wedding for next summer? is it family, friends, who struggle with their seperate realities? Why am I so…OUT of sorts?
Emptiness.
No answer.
I concede this isn’t my flower-yest blog. But it’s what I have, so I am not going to polish and clean it for you.
http://www.lukechueh.com/images/sightings2/Fan%20Art/Empty_on_the_Inside_by_Sim.jpg
Drops in the Pail on Sat, 20th Jun 2009 8:31 pm
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