Sunday, October 19, 2008

Desperation

Well it is now Sunday and I have not been writing for my 10 minutes a day. My last post has sucked me dry of all inspiration and willingness to go on. I missed class on Thursday because money was a little more important that day. But, here is my homework for the week:

what's a moment of my story
what's one memory

consider the above when you write each day, you may not be able to be objective about what is or isn't working/part of the story.

So with this in mind, let's revisit a previous writing, the leaf and concrete from a last week.

I can feel the last of my filaments holding onto my woody birthplace, it just releasing me into the world. No teary goodbye, no warm embrace just letting go. What an amazing feeling that must be, to be able to just let the memories be what they are a moment in the past. Living with the regret, the what-ifs, the could haves, the should haves, the would have beens is exhausting, but it keeps me busy, alive. I know I've lived, I've done something in my life, but, and there always is, but it could have been more. But because that moment was cut short, my story isn't finished, that moment will live on in my mind because I wasn't allowed to finish what it should have been. A silly statement in itself, the story was finished, just not by me. I float, carried by my new love, on to bigger an better adventures. I hope the wind picks up to carry me far away from this home, to be able to forget why I want to let go, why I am running. Perhaps I've read too many teen novels and expect my love to chase after me. Well of course he should, I am the sun, you worshipped me, and now you have the audacity to think you can survive without my warmth. The beginning of the school year brought a tension, a sadness that wasn't there before. It was me, my once ebullient self, lost in her own self pity. Why the sadness, why can't you understand, why can't you deal with me. The good the bad and the depressed. I should've known. I give and give and when the fun stops, so do people. Do i desperately seek out the broken, so I can fix them, am I a magnet for the do-it-yourselfers and why can't I find my carpenter?