They move in the mist,
Creatures of old-time myths.
She clung to the cup.
Her frigid fingers curled round the paper,
Desperate to draw
The last ounce of warmth
From the lukewarm liquid sloshing inside
As she scurried from building to building
In the bitter fall rain.
I want to be the next Great American Novelist.
I want to write great litrashure.
“You’re a great writer. You just have to find your story.”
I’ve been writing in fits and starts for three months now. In a burst of inspiration, I jot down the brilliance (because let’s face it – when you’re a writer and the spirit moves you, it (whatever it may be) is always brilliant) that comes into my head like medieval grace. But then, hours or days or sometimes weeks later, when I return to it, the grace is gone, and I can no longer remember where I was going with what I had written.
Not having finished anything is starting to really irritate me. The only things I’ve managed to finish writing have been for class assignments, and those were only finished with much wailing and gnashing of teeth as the deadline approached (and occasionally, as it whooshed by).
I imagine it’s going to get worse before it gets better, what with taking more classes next semester than I did this semester, and I suppose I’m going to have to accept that fact. I wish I hadn’t been so dumb the first time I did college. I wish I hadn’t let fear of failure rule my life. I was afraid I’d never make new friends, I was afraid my relationship would wither and die and I’d be all alone in the great big world, a little girl playing at being a grown-up. I think I was also afraid of success and sabotaged myself before I had the chance to succeed.
They say hindsight is 20/20, and they’re definitely right, but I wish I hadn’t always had to do things the hard way. Hopefully I won’t continue to always do things the hard way.
College in your thirties is definitely hard, especially when there are so many things you want to do that you can’t because you have a family and a job and so many things that require your attention. College in my twenties would have been so much simpler. Even if I still couldn’t have done all the things I wanted to do, at least the demands on my time were fewer.
Thank goodness, I guess, that I’m a self-directed learner.
Also, thank goodness for caffeine. Because without it, there is no way I’d have made it through this semester and no way I could make it through the upcoming ones.
All glory to caffeine! 😀
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