Saturday, October 15, 2005

Ok, I'm going to try to recreate the post that dissappeared. Its gonna suck, though, compared to the first one.

I haven't written for a few months. I got obsessed with some things and sorta stopped writing for a while. Now I'm back. I plan to write more often.

Its fun to read about the little day to day things that are inevitably forgotten. I've always wanted to inspirational, clever and wise when I write, but that's not me. I tend to be down to earth, pragmatic, and decidedly non-inspirational. I recently uncovered an old journal (remember those? We used to actually have to use a pen back in the days before the internet). It was tucked away in a box of my personal belongings and left to rot at my parents house. They finally got sick of having the boxes taking up space in their house and made me take them home. I found the journal tucked in between my old clothes I wore back in the 80's. I hadn't read the journal since 1990. Wow, did it bring back some memories. Apparently I was boy crazy at that age. Thats all I wrote about back then. I remember wanting so desperately to write something that was actually meaningful. I would sit with my pen at the paper and try to squeeze out a poem, something, anything! I'm no writer. I suffer from a severe lack of creativity. I actually managed to write a dumb poem about my inability to write poems. Sigh. It was the best I could do. I'll let you read it if you promise not to laugh in my face about it. Just make sure my back is turned.

Ok, its more like prose. I couldn't even get it to be poem-y.

Here it is. It doesn't have a title. I couldn't think of one.

The words aren't here tonight.
I cannot write.
Yet my pen yearns to move freely across the vast white expanse of the paper.

So I sit, and my pen moves, writing nothing of consequence to any other person.

But I would have it otherwise.
My thoughts are too clumsy to record, and my pen too slow to keep up with the constant flickering of ideas moving about within my mind.

What is it that I can do if I cannot write?
What is the gift I can give to the world?
That there is something to give, I do not doubt.
I feel it often enough.

Its that urge I have to stand where others can see me, and be touched by me, not physically, but spiritually, within the heart.

What song, what verse, what drama, is waiting for the moment to become a work of art?
What moment of inspiration awaits the world?
Some day it will sally forth its efforts and...


End of dumb non-poem-y poem.

Ok, I'm laughing at that last line. Sally forth??? Hahahaha. Ok, I'm laughing at the whole thing. I did write a few other romantic poems that are way too bad to even be put on a blog that nobody reads.

So I wrote this when I was 18 and I wanted to be famous. Maybe an actress, a singer or a writer. Truth is, I can't think of a thing on my own. I couldn't make up an original story to save my life. I kissed a creative person once (20 years ago). He recently became a rather famous playwrite, and won some really big award for a play he wrote, which was also made into a movie. So, he wasn't famous yet, and the kiss was closed mouth, so it doesn't really count does it? I was only 16 and I was a goodie goodie and I didn't french kiss. Needless to say, the future famous playwrite guy's interest in me rapidly waned. He quickly moved on to greener pastures, lol.

Now I'm 36 years old. I'm a wife and mother, so the only boys I blog about are the ones I gave birth to. I still don't have anything inspirational to say. My kids are my work of art, and my husband is a just piece of work. LOL, sorry hon, that was just a joke. :)

The last part of the lost in cyberspace blog that I wrote was all about how fat I am and how I'm going to be working on losing weight. It was humiliating enough to write the first time, I'm not going to write it again. Bully for you, my non existent readership. You have been spared the gory details.


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