i've had really bad writer's block ever since i've had this blog and started the magazine... its as if the pressure of writing is far too great for me, and instead of facing like a woman, i cower and shrink like a fool. i wish i could write as freely as in my letters to joyce, or in my conversations with zo and hyo, or as candid and emotional as i get with alex. and though i have these wishes, the bottom line is that i lack a belief that my words have power. i'm a reader, so i know that words do have power. that civilizations were shaped by the great influential thinkers and writers, and i put myself into a position with so much pressure to say something 'great' and all that comes out is pooooooop.
we had a couple of hours to kill, so alex and i loitered in the parking for hours. we sat, we stood, but mostly we talked. i was expressing my insecurity about 'planning' and alex was telling me that i just need to face my fears/weaknesses face on. see, i used to be planned, or so i thought. high school was a bit concocted because i had everything and everyone mapped out. there was little spontaneity and room to explore the unknown. the unknown was territory for someone else to explore. but when i move to sd, something inside me changed. i was tired of the person i had become. i began to see that i was missing out on experiencing life because i was so focused on planning out every moment and detail of an unrealistic fantasy that i wanted to live.
life seems to always rear its ugly face at me, and i have to live through the pain of it to build my character. yet it seems that i've been building this character for years, ever since my mom didn't buy me a tamagochi.... i relate life to running a mile. its that burning sensation in your throat because you need water and your breathing becomes short and your sides ache. but you keep putting one foot in front of the other... and keep on going. for what? is it to finish? is it to experience what it means to run? to feel the sun beat against your neck?