Just when I’m all go and ready to write, my brain freezes and I cannot think of a damn thing to write about. Run to twitter and Facebook. Post a new status: “brain freeze. looking for topics to write about.” And guess what? No one suggests anything. I have over 200 people on my Facebook connects, over 35 on twitter and not a single person suggests anything. Almost makes me want to remove everyone. But I won’t! It’s Friday night. I get it. People are out.
Second attempt: Call Vie up, ask him for suggestions. “I dunno” How sad is that? He’s too busy reading up on the latest mmorpg. He’s distracted.
Hang up with him. Come back to WordPress. Decision made!
I’m going to write about having nothing to write about. Even if no one reads this, I still know I had a brain freeze today and wrote about it.
Brain’s over working now! Why am I so enthusiastic about writing? What will come of it? Travelling back into my childhood. My diaries. OMG my endless hours of bickering, rage and silliness all complied into cute little journals.
I was born to write! I could have been a writer. Not an artist or an under-paid office worker. I was destined to WRITE!
Looking further into my childhood reminds me about what I always wrote about. No, it wasn’t the little fantasies that most girls have. No, it wasn’t about the latest crush. It was all about pain. Emotional. Physical. Is that what I’m good at? Writing about pain? Is it that easy to write about all the sad, pitiful things that happen in our lives? None of my memories recall writing about love or happiness. I remember the tears when writing. Why did I miss noting all the good things? Why did I emphasis and give so much importance to all the crap that happened in my life over all the little happy moments I felt?
I don’t know if it’s possible or not to remember all the happy memories. However, I must. Maybe another post. Maybe another day.
If I remembered, if I wrote about it; would I be someone else today?