Hobbies, not hobbits
Saturday, February 19th - didn't write down the time
On certain days the Deity of Writing takes me by the hand and guides me through the deep crave to pour my (and her) thoughts somewhere, be it online or on paper. Like right now, on this warm Saturday morning while it's my turn to work - lovely rotations - and despite the nice weather my hands are freezing.
Flashes of words and sayings and stories and bits of poetry surface from underneath the lake of worries I usually make my head drown in. Worries about what, I wonder... Everything's pretty ok yet this hideous feeling of nonsense keeps on haunting me. It's like fear of letting go of the schedules I've created to plan everything in my life and pretend I'm perfectly fine and organized so that not a single thing can possibly go wrong or be left unplanned. Can you believe the shit I make up to fill my lonely life? I know I can't. Plans, schemes, ever since I was little. "I must do like this and this and then like that and everything will be alright". It's a jigsaw puzzle I persistently undo and redo just for the heck of it, just to create this square in which I put my mind so it can function and keep on thinking straight. Otherwise it's screwed. if I let it loose I don't know what could happen. I might even kill people, you know. I sometimes picture it.
See, it really is the quiet ones you have to beware of. I'm perfect: good daughter, hard-working employee, caring and always-listening friend, I could be the most passionate and faithful lover. It's not an act, I mean I really am a good person, but just because you're good it doesn't mean you can't crack. Snap. Break.
All this rant stem from the talk about writing. In the end I guess it's just another way for me to remain sane, along with my other hobbies. Isn't it what they do, keeping you sane? Long live the hobbies!!
On certain days the Deity of Writing takes me by the hand and guides me through the deep crave to pour my (and her) thoughts somewhere, be it online or on paper. Like right now, on this warm Saturday morning while it's my turn to work - lovely rotations - and despite the nice weather my hands are freezing.
Flashes of words and sayings and stories and bits of poetry surface from underneath the lake of worries I usually make my head drown in. Worries about what, I wonder... Everything's pretty ok yet this hideous feeling of nonsense keeps on haunting me. It's like fear of letting go of the schedules I've created to plan everything in my life and pretend I'm perfectly fine and organized so that not a single thing can possibly go wrong or be left unplanned. Can you believe the shit I make up to fill my lonely life? I know I can't. Plans, schemes, ever since I was little. "I must do like this and this and then like that and everything will be alright". It's a jigsaw puzzle I persistently undo and redo just for the heck of it, just to create this square in which I put my mind so it can function and keep on thinking straight. Otherwise it's screwed. if I let it loose I don't know what could happen. I might even kill people, you know. I sometimes picture it.
See, it really is the quiet ones you have to beware of. I'm perfect: good daughter, hard-working employee, caring and always-listening friend, I could be the most passionate and faithful lover. It's not an act, I mean I really am a good person, but just because you're good it doesn't mean you can't crack. Snap. Break.
All this rant stem from the talk about writing. In the end I guess it's just another way for me to remain sane, along with my other hobbies. Isn't it what they do, keeping you sane? Long live the hobbies!!