Last night, I spent the better part of the night writing out my gloriously wonderful and supportive childhood. *ironic laughter*
Okay, that’s enough, I don’t want to tempt universal fate and have lightning to strike me or something.
Actually, I spent that time writing out part of my life’s story. Yes, it’s a tragic tale of woe and no, I don’t talk about it too often outside of a therapy session. You see, I am writing a letter. A very special letter. A letter which may well change the course of my life depending on the reply I get from the recipient. It is important that I disclose everything about my life to this person, so they may better understand my idiosyncrasies and, hopefully, be willing to move forward together in friendship and love. Awww…
If this person is not as serious as they claim to be, this letter will serve to warn them off before we’re irrevocably tied together. So, I have a lot riding on this letter. As odd as it may seem, I’m not nervous, despite so much weight being put on my mind due to this situation. Strangely, my mind is at peace with the whole situation. Either we’ll move forward together or we won’t move together at all. Those are the two big choices. Everything else is small potatoes.
In another situation, I have been writing again recently. I’ve taken to posting it to Facebook, usually with a warning of impending doom at reading my works. This is another situation where my early programming comes in.
Throughout my childhood, until I was a legal adult, I was frequently derided for my writing skills. It didn’t help matters that I wasn’t fully literate until third grade. Yet, to have multiple adults constantly barraging my young mind with the same negative programming wasn’t good, in my opinion. It only served to push me into self-deprecation in all my work due to expecting derision from others. Rather than suffer the arrows of others, I tend to commit social seppuku whenever I can. Especially when it’s something related to my creative endeavors.
I was recently admonished by a friend not to do this. She’s right. I shouldn’t do this. I may not have formal literary training but I do have good stories. They stand up well, despite the flaws in grammar and punctuation. I just need to remember that writing is a marathon of creativity, not a sprint. The fun is in the process of uncovering the stories in our minds.
So, from here on, I’m going to post my words without derisive commentary.
Okay, now it’s almost Lunch time.