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kittay.diaryland.com

scratching at this old door
November 29, 2010 :: 1:24 a.m.

It's been oh so long, and I never could decide how to deal with all my old entries here or what I should or shouldn't write. Meh.
Oh wells.
Another year goes by, and I'm still not writing regularly when I had totally THOUGHT that I was so OVER that and could get back into the game, maybe even on track enough to try NANOWRIMO this year. But I wound up deciding what my idea was, wasn't really within their labels for a real novel, and I couldn't make myself go through with it as an outlaw/rogue thing. Even though I told myself I should, to at least be somewhat productive with it. But it wouldn't really count, so that kept me from doing it at all. Just thinking and thinking about it, never actually writing it out. BAH!
The thing that stops me from being able to write here, is the damn fears of who might come across it. I'm so sick of all my fears, really, ya know. So whatever. I want the days back where I didn't care and felt safe here, I want the feeling of pouring it out and NEEDING to write to finally finally get resolved again.
The thing that I miss about my writing, that I want to get back consistently again is my voice, when I can catch that fluidity pouring through me in the unique pattern it takes. Words shaping into a song of their own, taking off into a shape that's so well known, but always hidden buried deep inside.
I want that to be able to come out again, I want that moment of it trickling like a waterfall and time stopping as I take a breath hearing nothing but it and this pounding heart it melts into with muted echoes.
I've come to notice it in other writers, as I read them writing about even the most clinical most generic and academic topics you can think of, but you stop and notice the groove of the words as they fall into line and sync up; it catches you off guard, as you get lost in the beats and that's how you know they have it, no matter the topic it will be good, because they're truly meant to be a born writer and storyteller.
I can look back into my past and be awed at the times where I totally had that going on, and never even realized it. I want it to overcome me again, damnit. I need to feel the freedom to let it out, but it's been so long, and I have all of these new fears added on to the old ones.
This used to be such a good thing for me, such a good place for me. Can I have it back now? Please.

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