I am obviously not in my elements lately. Crapping a lot in Writing. I try as much as I can not to force myself to post anything that I will regret later on. I just read a lot the past few days- which I think is good for my decaying vocab and rubbish ideas. I wouldn’t say it’s writer’s block because I have overlapping thoughts and short stories in my head – many of them – I just can’t seem to put them in action]. It’s not the lack of words. It’s the lack of nerve. And later on, the lack of appetite. It’s more like stage fright. You know your piece well. You can deliver it alone in your room but given an audience in a huge auditorium and some ruthless critics, the voice cracks and escapes in panic to a point of “forget it”.
It used to be fun. Until not anymore.
Apart from having cold feet in writing, I have also been feeling awfully old [and cold] lately. Yes, it has become a feeling and it’s creeping me out. I don’t really look old. I mean, I look fine. But looking fine isn’t fine. I want to look young and pretty. I mean, how many times will you hear someone compliment a thirty something woman with the word pretty? No. It doesn’t happen anymore. Pretty are only for young girls. And that’s probably one of the saddest part in this scenario. The word pretty has now been robbed from me! Drama Queen. I know it’s silly but it matters to me – to not be able to feel what twenty something feels like anymore. Did Carrie Bradshaw and her girls ever felt this way? How do I get out of this rut? I want to be carefree, sunny, bubbly, fun, ecstatic, clever, witty and sparkling. I was all that a few years back.
I miss that girl who has this rapture in her eyes and heat in her lips. The one that walks down the street with flared dress and flat sandals, tiny bare shoulders with leather bag strap around her and a long necklace usually with huge pendants swinging down her waist. She’s sunshine and fresh air and ice cream. She’s the kind of flavor you haven’t tasted ever in your life. She’s rainbow. She’s raindrops. She’s stardust. She’s fire. She’s sunlight. She’s summer. She’s Spring.
You will find her drinking her bubble milk tea, writing on a notebook and fumbling on her phone at the corner table. And damn she’s feisty. She’s full of spirit. Very interesting. They all love her. Men and women of all ages are drawn to her. She’s a delight to talk to. You can’t get enough of her. She’s the type of girl whose presence you will miss in a day. Lighthearted. Whimsical. Doesn’t speak much but when she does, it’s bliss.
I don’t know what had change really. Was it just age and how it psychologically disarmed me with my very own charms? Was it weight? Because I have gained some? And I feel so terrible with my figure lately. Was it environment? Because I’m practically surrounded by twenty year old’s? Was it the wrinkles on my face that aren’t quite visible yet but are already making a statement? Was it friends? Because I have lost in touch with my positive reinforcing crowd? Was it boredom? Have I been lazying around and have forgotten to take care of myself?
I am failing miserably lately on writing and on aging. And I don’t really know how to go about it.
I want to revert back to writing with enthusiasm. And I want to feel beautiful again like I used to. I need some strong coffee to win this thing at least for today.
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