I don’t write very often anymore. Just facts. Every so often, I think, “I really should write something today.” And then I don’t, for various reasons. Some reasons I understand, and others I don’t. But since I stopped writing for work OR even pleasure a few months ago, I’ve started feeling pretty low. Which is okay! It’s normal! People feel blue sometimes!!!! EVERYTHING IS JUST FINE I DON’T HAVE CANCER PROBABLY.
Honestly, I’m a bit of a mess these days, and my one consolation is that I’m fine enough with it to admit it to the entire internet.
But then I read this Ray Bradbury quote the other day:
“You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.”
And it’s cheesy, but somehow it assisted my realization that I’m always a little bit of a mess. Always have been. Everybody is, I think. But the difference is that for the past 4 years I wrote something practically every day, and it kept me feeling okay. It’s how I process shit. I’m just a writer.
I’m a writer. What’s funny is, it took me a long time to start saying that to other people–or even myself. Which is dumb, but I felt shy about it for 30-whatever years. And now that I haven’t been writing professionally for a few months, I’ve started feeling weird about it again. But here’s the thing: I’m not a writer because I’m good at writing; I’m a writer because it’s what I do to make sense of stuff. If I needed to do magic tricks in order to make sense of my life, I’d be a magician. If I needed to shoot baskets in order to be okay, I’d be a basketball player. But I’m not those things, I’m a writer.
The other day a friend of mine suggested I write something small–even just a haiku–every day, just to write something. So that’s what I’ll do, and I’ll put it here, okay?
ARE YOUR READY FROM SOME HAIKU, YA’LL?