i want to write to you my love

*sung to the tune of Regina Spektor’s ‘I Want to Sing’*

How do you make yourself write?
Not just blogs (which I have enough trouble making myself update as it is), but WRITING; poetry, novels, scripts, fairy stories, childrens books.
All of these I have in my head.
Yet, my hand resists putting them down on flesh-and-blood paper.

My guru and inspiration Rhys just writes.
Like Nike just does it.
He will go home, and write. For two and a half hours straight.
I’m lucky to get a good half hour once a week.

Yet, I sit at work and crave (like scones and jam and cream) to write for a living.
I want the world in my head to translate beautifully and effortlessly (or at least with very little effort) to the world of reality, linking the two for the enjoyment of children and adults with Peter Pan syndrome.

Does anybody have an idea on how to MAKE myself write (because I know that I’m good, and I have talent, and I need to do this or it will go to waste for the rest of my life)?
I tried to make Marty and Jonni chase me up about it, every time they see me, asking me if I have done any writing today.
It didn’t work however.
I haven’t been enquired after once.
*sigh*

So, any other ideas?

Also, in other news, it is only two more sleeps until The Boy and I fly to the Sunshine Coast to have a holiday, so I can go to my youngest sister’s Year 12 Formal, and so he can meet the ‘rents.

And, I dyed my hair. Red. Copper. Orange. Auburn. Chestnut. Ranga. Whatever.
I like it.
It’s kind of hippie.

Highlighted And Irreversible Ranga

feeling lonely in the centre of somebody else’s universe

Reader warning: Anything I say tonight cannot be used against me in a court of law. Or, tomorrow.

I will be better in the morning.
I know I will.
Sleep solves everything.
Except maybe the war in the Middle East.

Tonight I feel unloved, though I know that I indubitably am.

I will not recount details, for they are worthless, and of no interest to anybody (or, I don’t want to tell you); but have you ever experienced the feeling when someone really wants to do something that involves you, but it would hurt you to do it? You want to do it for them, because you love them, but it will most likely kill you ’round the edges of your heart.

And the worst is that they don’t understand the ramifications.
So you explain it to them.

They immediately retract their thoughts, their wants, their needs because they love you, and even though they don’t quite understand why it would hurt you, they don’t want to do that to you.

But you know that they still really want to do it. And if they do it in their head, in their heart, isn’t that almost as bad as them doing it in reality?

Listening to: Ani DiFranco – You’re Untouchable Face
Waiting for: The Boy to get home to have chats
Wishing: I was asleep
Wondering: If there is another way to get ‘closure’