Back In Bed, Two For Tuesday
Mar. 31st, 2012 09:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rainspiritI'm almost back to where I used to be. Or maybe I'm beyond that, but things are starting to become familiar again.
A quiet breakfast. iTunes playlist. Computer, free of distraction. Free to be me. A moment of contentment for where I am, who I am, what I'm doing.
I'm writing, thank God, I'm writing, and it's beautiful, and I can do this, I am capable of this.
And I am thankful that this is not manic, that this isn't some mood swing. That's one thing I have to be thankful for, among other things, like the fact that I have ears to hear, hands to type, eyes to see. I have an ingrained sense of responsibility and self-reward, like making myself french toast with maple syrup after cleaning up the kitchen sink, washing pots and pans by hand.
It's the morning, and I'm awake, I'm not sleeping in, I'm not seizing distraction. I'm here, I'm here.
It's all fine. I'm almost to the finish line. I thought it was so close, so urgent. I was so scared. But it's still a way's away, I still have time to make a good end of it all.
I'm a writer. I'm a critic. I'm a dreamer. I make up worlds, and characters, and ideas, and though I squander some, I learn more about myself from the ideas I throw away than I will probably ever learn about the ones I publish. It's not a waste, it's my life. It's how I experience life.
And though I despair inwardly about my lack of physical and sexual fulfillment - all that junk - I realize how disconnected that all is from my larger personality. The fact that I'm a male with sexual organs seems increasingly disassociated from my overall personality. The idea that I am two entities, a mental and a carnal, and the idea that I don't have to guilt one for the other, is freedom. It's one less set of baggage around my neck.
I feel better about a lot of things.
Anyway, that's my thoughts put down.
A quiet breakfast. iTunes playlist. Computer, free of distraction. Free to be me. A moment of contentment for where I am, who I am, what I'm doing.
I'm writing, thank God, I'm writing, and it's beautiful, and I can do this, I am capable of this.
And I am thankful that this is not manic, that this isn't some mood swing. That's one thing I have to be thankful for, among other things, like the fact that I have ears to hear, hands to type, eyes to see. I have an ingrained sense of responsibility and self-reward, like making myself french toast with maple syrup after cleaning up the kitchen sink, washing pots and pans by hand.
It's the morning, and I'm awake, I'm not sleeping in, I'm not seizing distraction. I'm here, I'm here.
It's all fine. I'm almost to the finish line. I thought it was so close, so urgent. I was so scared. But it's still a way's away, I still have time to make a good end of it all.
I'm a writer. I'm a critic. I'm a dreamer. I make up worlds, and characters, and ideas, and though I squander some, I learn more about myself from the ideas I throw away than I will probably ever learn about the ones I publish. It's not a waste, it's my life. It's how I experience life.
And though I despair inwardly about my lack of physical and sexual fulfillment - all that junk - I realize how disconnected that all is from my larger personality. The fact that I'm a male with sexual organs seems increasingly disassociated from my overall personality. The idea that I am two entities, a mental and a carnal, and the idea that I don't have to guilt one for the other, is freedom. It's one less set of baggage around my neck.
I feel better about a lot of things.
Anyway, that's my thoughts put down.
te quiero tanto...
Date: 2012-03-31 09:43 pm (UTC)