I struggle with consistency in almost everything I do, but especially when it comes to writing. I fight myself even when I am close to exposing my authentic voice. When I feel like I am at the top of my game, I knock myself down again and again. It’s in part why I love being behind the scenes. And why I prefer to help other writers hone their craft.
The thing is, the behind the scenes work has left me feeling empty and longing for my literary caterpillar to become a beautiful butterfly of wordsmithing. There was a time when I wrote like it was going to save the world. I still have my journals filled with the worst poetry to ever be inked. I would rush home from the hellish days of school to recant my days in cuss word laced prose. I remember feeling free after. Feeling as if I had immortalized my experiences for future use.
These days, writing is a struggle. Getting my thoughts to flow through me and land on paper or computer screen stifles and scares me. It’s almost like there is something that I don’t want to give, like a piece of me refuses to be freed…
I bought some spiral notebooks today at the $.99 store. Maybe forcing myself to write without rules or word goals will help. I don’t know. I just need to be free.