It’s been a while since I’ve written, mostly because this has been a week of hectic schoolwork and sickness. The being ill bit probably could not have come at a worse time, but it is what it is, and we’re dealing with it.
In other news, I’m scared.
I’m working on some nonfiction, which is interesting/daunting/curious because I haven’t actually had a class in it and so I’m bumbling, more than anything else, over my own experiences and trying to articulate them in a literary way.
It’s actually not working out all that well.
What I’m learning, as it turns out, is that I do not like to dig up the emotional baggage of the past. One would think that’s healthy – sort of, ish, maybe? – but it’s incredibly not-helpful when writing, as my nonfiction prose is coming off as emotionless (and slightly judgmental, natch). So now I need to do some serious soul-searching, brain-digging, memory-sifting, what-have-you, and contemplate all the emotions of days gone by. And this is why I’m scared.
Quite frankly, I do not want to dig those things up. I have only fairly recently made my peace with the status quo of forgotten friendships and best-friends-turned-acquaintances. And I am really and truly fine with life the way it is, but I am also really not interested in going through all of that again. Because I will get emotional in a sad/angry/mopey way and I will miss them and I will potentially want to fix things all over again, and it will get messy for everyone involved, but mostly for me.
But I’m going to write, and I want to write, so there’s that. Positive writer-juju would certainly be appreciated. I’ll let you know if I end up puddling on the floor.