breathe

Even though I’ve placed my book aside – I’m letting it free for a spell – I still need to write and discover and not take any days off from this. I’ve heard of some people taking days off after they finish a big project, but I don’t want to. I want to get up tomorrow like I’ve been doing for the past however long this project has taken me. I want to keep hearing new music and seeing new things. I want to swim in new paperbacks and hardbacks and collect them like shells inside me.

I use to worry that at some point I’d lose all this. Something in my brain would shut off and get amputated and I wouldn’t be able to write at a certain point, but I don’t think that anymore. Even in the exhaustion of it sometimes, I’m addicted to how it makes me feel – a drug of the purest origins.

My house smells like chili and it’s been raining all day. pat says he loves rainy Sundays because they are a free pass to stay inside and be lazy. Rain gives us permission to lounge around without bras on and our pants rolled up.

I’m trying to train doubt to be an ally like Rainer Maria Rilke says to do. I’m trying to ask it questions and make it answer for itself. I’m trying to use it to become a good critic to help me in my work and not debilitate it. i’m trying to tell it to leave me the fuck alone right now. (I’ve been told by a friend she likes when I curse on my blog – that one’s for you L-)

We’ll see if I find the right sized leash for the parts of me that think I’m terrible at what I love, that what I love is rejecting me, that what I love doesn’t think I’m good enough for it. And while I’m trying to train the monster, how do I retrain my deep deep deep insecurities in myself? How do I retrain that?

I know at the bottom layer of my heart something good remains there. But it’s not as easy as I hoped it would be to press the bad filaments up and out of me. There’s always a few pieces that get left behind.

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