Sometimes Its Hard For Me To Write. Not Because I Have Nothing To Say, But Because I Have Too Much. Thoughts

Sometimes it’s hard for me to write. Not because I have nothing to say, but because I have too much. Thoughts race and chase each other through my head and alongside them ideas and stories. I have to untwist them, measure them until I find one that has substance. That‘s why I find writing a challenge—I have the words and expressions at my disposal, and literary terms I have plenty of, but it is the thoughts themselves that evade me. The plans and plots turning through my cavernous mind, hidden for the most part, emerging only for a second, ten things at once and my brain gets too crowded and I lose the ideas, lose my train of thought, lose any ability I have gained, any knowledge obtained from practice. I forget how to string words together and how to express any emotion. I forget how to write.

The Magic Of Writing

Sometimes I just want to create

Things;

I want to sit and be able to open up

A world

My fingers tapping against keys.

I still haven’t found that magic.

Trying to convince myself it doesn’t

Exist.

Everything takes practice,

Especially words

Especially writing.

But I want it to exist.

I want that magic to exist

So badly.

And don’t we all?

In different ways

Don’t we all want

There to be a magic solution

To something?

Wouldn’t life be better

If that one thing were easier?

Wouldn’t I be happier

If words would flow

From my fingers through my pen

And deep into the paper

As my hand cramps at how fast

I’m scrawling down the words?

No? But maybe

That’s not exactly what I want anyway.

Then the words might come too fast

And my typing or writing couldn’t

Keep up and I’d end up

With the perfect story in my head and

Fragments on my page.

I can’t even talk as fast as

I think,

And I’m faster at talking

Than typing,

Which is saying

Something

Isn’t it?

Isn’t it?...

Snippet #3

I can’t help but smile a little, pushing back the spark of hurt blossoming in my chest.

Too Much (pt. 2)

I just wish I had an explanation

But you don’t owe me one

You don’t owe me anything

You owe me nothing

I need to remind myself of that more

Repeat it in my head a hundred times before I fall asleep

Think of it as easily as I think of loving you

You don’t owe me anything

Not your words

Not your love

You don’t owe me anything

I can survive without it all

I can survive without you

Most of the time it’s hard to believe that

But maybe it would be easier to just let go

And accept that it’s not going to happen

But I never learned how to let go of hope

I never learned how to care with half a heart

I’m too much

Too much

Too much

—VK

// Sunday, December 30, 2018

Snippet #4

A moment later everyone is seated, soft chatter blanketing the bus as the driver goes over the security information we’ve all heard a hundred times before.