it's again been a while since i've written in this blog. always, at this time of year, i get a bit "resolution-y", so as usual, i've decided to devote myself a bit more to writing. we'll see how far this one goes.
currently, i've been trying to go through a routine in which i take some time to do all of the things that i feel are important to ME. things like writing, of course, but also fitness things and drawing and playing the piano. it's my hope that by keeping this routine, i will at the very least maintain myself as a viable active person. i guess the alternative would be just "giving up," which i'm not ready to do yet.
there are also many projects or goals that i'd like to take care of. i've been on this whole aquaponics shtick, although i haven't exactly been "scientific" about it. i would like to make it so that i can make food for my family at a pretty decent rate, so that it could possibly cut down on our food costs (yeah, right), but also make us more self-sufficient. i need to explore all of this a lot more.
there are some other projects, but i can't think of them off the top of my head...
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as far as writing is concerned... well, it's been difficult, to say the least. i often wonder if i still have it in me to write. i mean, it's such a chore. i have a tendency to start things off okay, but i quickly begin to write myself into a corner. nothing ever feels particularly "inspired," i suppose. there seems to be such a dichotomy between the freeform, intuitive writing, and the formal writing of a short story. i think the latter emphasizes structure and plot elements and such (with everything "fitting together" and "making sense") versus the stream-of-consciousness stuff that i write whenever i free write. neither hits the mark. what is the mark? the mark is to have something compelling, something that moves. i suppose it is something similar to drawing. the goal is to create an image which has life. which stirs the viewer... and that is difficult to accomplish in any medium.
i think i have also been wrestling with my internal anger, and my inability to forgive my brother. regardless of whether he is forgivable or not, or whether he deserves forgiveness or not, it is really doing a number on me. i think in my head, i have confounded him with EVERYONE. thus, i secretly think everyone around me has the potential to be a real shitbag, and i don't count on or expect anyone to be anything different. i honestly don't care much for most people. i kind of say it like i am the victim, but in reality, i already have a strike against the world because i think it has done me harm, and that it owes me something, it needs to prove something to me. i say i don't expect anything from anyone, but actually, it secretly means that i expect the world to be shitty to me. there's no way around it. and i suppose it isn't fair to the world for me to feel this way.
i'm also encountering this obstacle within, an internal obstacle, of me ever having strong feelings for anything. i've talked about this before. but now, more and more, it is becoming problematic. you can't go through life pretending you don't feel anything about anything. it's a lie. but even if i discern some inklings of feeling within me, i'm finding that it has a hard time getting out. it's almost like it's impossible for me to say what i want. it's almost like i can never get what i want, unless the world asks for it for me. or unless the world grants me it. and i have been lucky in a lot of ways. but it's still not the same as asking or demanding what you want of the world. it's another thing, where it looks like you are being moral or nice or something, but actually, you're telling a lie. it's almost like, you are waiting for the world to give you what you think you deserve. you can say to yourself that you don't deserve anything, but actually, inside, you are roaring for what you want, and you are only pretending when you say you don't deserve it, or that you don't want it. i actually know that i want a lot of things, that in fact some of my desires are insatiable. and i guess i'm okay with that, i have a handle on it. but it still is astonishing how, for example, i cannot conceive of myself asking for something, expressing my own personal desires. it does not work, it is not convincing, as a plot element. i can't put it any other way. it almost seems like in my personal narrative there must be this element of denial. and that is also holding me back.
i don't know if the two are related, but i suspect it is so. this internal hate, and this internal inability to express what i want. i don't know how to resolve it, or if it is even possible at this point in my life to resolve it. i realize that some of the stories i have written are written out of this small-minded hate, and that i need to somehow get over it. it's ironic, but when i write out of hate, it seems i can express myself or that it is possible, because i can cite a grievance, and try to get the world to feel sorry for me. but i can't stand out there and declare my love for something or someone without feeling like it's wrong, like doing so demands some sort of reprisal or revenge or something... i don't know.
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