Hiatus.

It’s time for intermission: as if I even had to say so, considering that I’ve hardly posted anything on here in three weeks.

When I wrote Ronald.  Fucking.  McDonald., I felt like I finally spilled some of my guts out to the world.  Don’t get me wrong: I put a good deal of thought into anything I post here.  Something different happened, though.  It was a non-fiction piece, and I don’t do that often.

I felt relieved to have put it out there.  But then, something just kind of snapped in me.  When you pour yourself out into even a small outlet, you feel these immense feelings of gratitude, relief, and genuine human connection.  You’re thankful that people read it.  You don’t feel like that part of yourself is trapped in a box, anymore.  And you feel like people get it.

Then, you realize that what you’ve written tells more about who you are than you care to look at in the mirror.

I’m not in the least ashamed.  I’m just…frustrated…at who I’ve become.  Some moments define you, and I don’t want to be limited to grotesque experiences molding me into whatever it is that I am.

I have to admit that the reflection looking back at me in that mirror is scarier than it once was.

And I’m sort of paralyzed with that fear right now: too shook up to write about anything.

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6 thoughts on “Hiatus.

  1. I do hope your hiatus is over. Whether it is non fiction or fiction, you’re writing has a brutal intensity that I find compelling. We all have our demons, they do not have to define us, but they are eternally a part of us. I understand frustration with ones self, and I know fear brother. I know fear. Use it.

    • Thank you. It’s sooo refreshing to hear a compliment sometimes, which makes me realize how selfish I can be when I fail to give them out. I’ll read a piece, and think, “That’s awesome!” And then, I can’t figure out the best way to convey appreciation. Maybe the best thing to do is to just place a comment that simply states why I like the piece.

      Not that it’s a contest or anything.

      This demon thing is a lot like training tigers: I may be able to demonstrate ferocity, but I don’t want to get eaten in the process.

      Thank you for being thoughtful enough to stop by, and to say something 🙂

      • “That’s awesome!” is rather sufficient if those are your thoughts. I do try to say something if a piece really moves me. We writers can be a tender finicky bunch. We are gods one moment, and self-loathing goblins the next.
        Don’t waste all your energy on trying to train your demons. They are wild, yes just like tigers. Try to tame them and you’ll only be left with claw and bite marks. You have to accept them, that is all they want, and that is the trick. You will still be left with wounds, but perhaps they will not run so deep or cause as much pain.
        Don’t be a stranger
        H

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