marshtide: (Default)
[personal profile] marshtide
1. When I saw my doctor last week she took me to task for not believing in my own point of view, emotions, ideas. It's true; I absolutely don't. It makes it hard to speak, post, write, decide what to have for dinner. I am saying this out loud, again, because I need to tell myself, again (and again and again and again), that it's a perception error, not reality, that I have no worth & nothing to say.

Not being the most talented person in the world is not the same as being worthless. Being wrong is not a disaster. Food is not out to get me.* I'm definitely allowed to post in my own space about things I don't think other people will be very interested in; "I wanted to say it" is a reason sometimes & being boring isn't actually a crime. Not everything has to be perfect. Producing imperfect results doesn't mean I'm a terrible human being. Maybe I'm really not a good writer like wot my brain tells me so often, but if so, that doesn't mean I have nothing to offer anyone at all.

* except assorted grains, which totally are.


2. Isen på Riddarfjärden
smäller som gevär
Blåljus vid Tegelbacken
Våren är här
Du står i spegelsalen
med ett brännbollsträ
Där ute väntar natten
på att stan ska implodera


I'm kind of fascinated.

("The ice on Riddarfjärden
cracks like guns
Blue lights at Tegelbacken
The spring is here
You stand in the hall of mirrors
with a rounders bat
Out there the night waits
for the city to implode"

... or something like that. I think.)

(There! This is boring and totally pointless because I refuse to elaborate at this time on why I find it interesting and I'M POSTING IT ANYWAY. Take THAT, brain!)


3. My writing process right now:

On Monday, I opened a word document. I wrote five words.

On Tuesday I turned the five words into an actual sentence by the cunning addition of punctuation, and added a second sentence. I got annoyed, opened a new word document and made notes on something completely different.

Today I went back to the first document and changed around a few things in the first two sentences, turned them into a paragraph, and began working on a second paragraph. It was about then that my subconscious realised what it was letting me get away with and decided that the sky must be about to fall.

I do wish it wouldn't do that.
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