Tuesday, May 3, 2016


Lately I haven't been writing blog posts every single day for a few reasons. And those reasons are: 1) I was becoming obsessive about writing everyday, even if I had no desire, drive, or need to write. So in other words, it was just another thing to check off on my very strict daily to do list. 2) I struggle to write right now without stimulants -- and lord knows I need to stay at least 100 yards away from any and all stimulants. So if I'm typing and struggling to come up with words and sentences and paragraphs, that tempting voice says to me, "Gee, wouldn't this be soooo much easier to do if you just popped a pill? Hmmm???" Blogging has become, essentially, a trigger. Oh good. 3) I am trying to write by hand in a journal more because I think it will be super therapeutic for me. I can really say what I want in a private journal, ya know? Plus, it means I can slow down, write outside, use crazy colored ink, etc. If I want to journal regularly, I have to put my energy into that and not deplete in on, well, doing what I'm doing right now.

And those are a few of the reasons why I have been distancing myself from writing, specifically on writing blog posts. Plus, I feel a little silly even having a blog. I know I shouldn't say that... Isn't that denying a part of myself? Putting myself down? Not acknowledging or appreciating any of the positives and benefits that have come from having this blog? Yes, probably. If only blog wasn't called "blog." It's the "blah" and the "guh" sounds that I don't like, so I guess it's the entire word. Blah-guh.

I have been daydreaming of the coast lately. I mean, I always have ever since I was in diapers. (Don't get me started writing about diapers -- I have a lot to say on the subject. Diapers seem like a wonderful, smart idea for me, an almost 32-year-old woman, right now. Like, if I'm out and about, walking, wandering, doing my thing -- I don't want to have to worry about the sudden urge to take a piss. I don't want to worry about either being arrested for urinating in public or hurrying home with urine-soaked leggings. No, I just want to pee freely and worry about it later. Okay, so I will never write about diapers again, I swear. Unless diapers becomes some kind of national hot topic, like Donald Trump calls women "diaper faces" or Beyonce comes out with another visual album called "The Diaper Diaries" or something. Okay.)

Oh yeah, the coast. It freakin' rocks. And rocks? Yeah, I like rocks on my coast. Rocky coasts that are cold and quiet and maybe frequented by sailor ghosts. I want these coasts to play a prominent role in my life somehow. I want to find my fog, I want to find my pearl.

I want a shower. Talk to you later rather than sooner.


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