Hello there. It's been a while. I haven't posted or written anything here in ages because, in a way, I felt like there were so many questions I left unanswered before deciding to start a blog, I felt like a fraud. So, for a while, I just decided to not write anything. I wrote poems and other things but I just wasn't sure if I knew what I was doing, I still don't, but I've decided to just go with the flow and see where it leads me instead of trying to force something out of nothing. I'm just going to write as me, no embellishments. I'm not going to try to agree or disagree with anybody, I'm just going to be May.
So think of this as a diary of sorts, think of this as a sneak peak into my mind and my feelings.
Who knows? Maybe we'll all learn how to be comfortable in our own skins and with our abilities. I can only do this by being as honest as I can be.
The first step for me, is to evaluate why exactly I stopped posting.
So this is my gift to you, brutal honesty and commitment, it's not going to be easy, but I'll try my best.
And so, in the spirit of honesty, here's one of the reasons why I stopped posting;
I don't think I'm a writer, at least not in the actual sense of the word. I say this because I don't think I know how to write. Perhaps it makes no sense to write about the fact that I can't write. Perhaps this is a kind of paradox, I don't know. All I know is this, there's this feeling of inadequacy that comes whenever I read poems or stories or novels or articles by better writers or people my mind tells me are better than me.
I see them pen down my thoughts in ways I could never dream of and I feel robbed, which makes no sense at all because how could anyone rob me of my thoughts when I haven't even figured out how to write them down. So no, I'm not a writer, I'm just a girl who is good with words and I don't think it's any special kind of talent either, it's just something I do, because otherwise, if I don't find a way to make this jumble of words in my head into something semi-sensible, I'd feel even more ordinary than I already do. And yet, I still refuse to call myself a writer. What am I then? I don't know.
As much as I don't think I'm a writer, I still don't want to be just another girl. I'm contradicting myself, aren't I? Life is full of contradictions. You want to stand out and yet you want to fit in. It makes life as we know it, seem pretty bleak, because sometimes, it feels like we'll never really get what we want, never really be satisfied with what we have. I want to live and yet I don't, I want to die, and yet...yet, I don't. I'm tired of my family and yet, I miss them when I'm away from them. I want to be by myself, away from people and yet, I want to be loved. I also don't want to need to be loved.
Human beings are insatiable and indecisive, it's our blessing and our curse and I'm one of the most blessed and cursed of all.
Maybe I'll never be able to make a decision, maybe I'll never really be satisfied with my choices, maybe there's a part of me that will always keep hoping or longing for something more or less, maybe I'll always have questions or regrets, but maybe that's ok. I still wish I was more talented or gifted than I am and maybe all I need is a little bit more consistency and hard work but for now, I'm content with the knowledge that my insatiability doesn't make me abnormal, I'm human, I'm a young human girl and despite all of my questions, I'm still me.
©May
So think of this as a diary of sorts, think of this as a sneak peak into my mind and my feelings.
Who knows? Maybe we'll all learn how to be comfortable in our own skins and with our abilities. I can only do this by being as honest as I can be.
The first step for me, is to evaluate why exactly I stopped posting.
So this is my gift to you, brutal honesty and commitment, it's not going to be easy, but I'll try my best.
And so, in the spirit of honesty, here's one of the reasons why I stopped posting;
I don't think I'm a writer, at least not in the actual sense of the word. I say this because I don't think I know how to write. Perhaps it makes no sense to write about the fact that I can't write. Perhaps this is a kind of paradox, I don't know. All I know is this, there's this feeling of inadequacy that comes whenever I read poems or stories or novels or articles by better writers or people my mind tells me are better than me.
I see them pen down my thoughts in ways I could never dream of and I feel robbed, which makes no sense at all because how could anyone rob me of my thoughts when I haven't even figured out how to write them down. So no, I'm not a writer, I'm just a girl who is good with words and I don't think it's any special kind of talent either, it's just something I do, because otherwise, if I don't find a way to make this jumble of words in my head into something semi-sensible, I'd feel even more ordinary than I already do. And yet, I still refuse to call myself a writer. What am I then? I don't know.
As much as I don't think I'm a writer, I still don't want to be just another girl. I'm contradicting myself, aren't I? Life is full of contradictions. You want to stand out and yet you want to fit in. It makes life as we know it, seem pretty bleak, because sometimes, it feels like we'll never really get what we want, never really be satisfied with what we have. I want to live and yet I don't, I want to die, and yet...yet, I don't. I'm tired of my family and yet, I miss them when I'm away from them. I want to be by myself, away from people and yet, I want to be loved. I also don't want to need to be loved.
Human beings are insatiable and indecisive, it's our blessing and our curse and I'm one of the most blessed and cursed of all.
Maybe I'll never be able to make a decision, maybe I'll never really be satisfied with my choices, maybe there's a part of me that will always keep hoping or longing for something more or less, maybe I'll always have questions or regrets, but maybe that's ok. I still wish I was more talented or gifted than I am and maybe all I need is a little bit more consistency and hard work but for now, I'm content with the knowledge that my insatiability doesn't make me abnormal, I'm human, I'm a young human girl and despite all of my questions, I'm still me.
©May
My baby, pure truths, i love this, i do
ReplyDeleteBeing you is the best thing you can be
ReplyDeleteI find this very relatable May. And you did succeed in what you had initially promised with the post: brutal honesty. Sometimes, I read another writer's work and I suddenly don't have the will to write anymore because is it even worth it if there's so much better stuff already out there? But then, you don't just write to please others or establish your skills, most importantly it is done to provide ourselves with an outlet of sorts.. we write because we love doing that, we do it for us. So please, keep on writing :)
ReplyDelete-Arti
All you've written, I can relate to. Right now I'm feeling robbed but since it's being an idea I never could have come up with this. We really are indecisive and insatiable but sometimes I think it's just the unconscious feeling that we can do more that drives us.
ReplyDeleteWe'll find our truths and be alright in the end, that's my hope
I can totally relate to how you feel dear:(
ReplyDeleteReading stuffs from very good writers could throw you off balance and make you think less of yourself. But like you said baby steps are important and someday you'll find yourself and truly appreciate your talent.
P.s You're a good writer except you didn't write disambiguation.
The part where you said "I want to be loved but also don't want to need to be loved" spoke volumes.♥️♥️
ReplyDeleteHi May. I just read this and I'm awed by how much you bare your heart. I wish I could do this too yunno, I wish I could talk about what plagues my mind and all but then I wish to be quiet too. Doubts eating me like shit. I may not be to relate to this all. I probably once felt like that but maybe I got to the point where I stopped caring. You think you're not a good writer, I once felt that way too. How I dealt with it is something I don't know how to explain. I guess I continued scribbling shits(you mentioned consistency) keep doing that. Being a better writer isn't the main shit, tbh. Being contented is, however we're all insatiable. Several nights have I blamed myself for doing more. But being insatiable is still the shit .doing more or doing less doesn't matter but then with doubts dragging ones heel, one would probably reconsider. I don't think I'm making sense,lol just know that Writing has no rules. Who made em? Break it. Write, even if it's for yourself. And bask in the pleasures hidden in that. You are a writer, maybe you aren't like others or you aren't like what you want. But really, you're so much more than you'll ever know. You won't understand it now, maybe time would tell or not. I love you May. Thanks for being you.
ReplyDeleteHey May. Robert Green describes human nature as highly ambivalent. Having this peak into your raw soul is amazing, it's relatable AF. But with everything in life, it's about putting ourselves out there and hoping for the best, right? Someday we'll understand the 'whys', but for now let's freestyle 💞.
ReplyDelete❤
ReplyDeleteHi May, you are what you are. People relate to your words, you speak the language that we understand when left unsaid. You help us relate to our feelings as though you are within. You are amazing.
So my darling, do not let the tag weigh you from writing. Do not let the uniform disturb you from the work. It's a lifestyle. If you dont think you're a 'writer' then you can just be May. May writes.
By the way, you have an amazing name❤