[drowning!O] epistolary disfunction
May. 11th, 2011 02:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wellownedbkupi don't write anymore.
i've tried. believe me, i have tried to write. i've tried to be bigger than myself, be more than the sum of what i know. and even now... i don't write anymore.
i read something i wrote a year and a half ago. half truth, half wish series of vignetts for a night at a wedding. i wrote it over a year ago and i was in love with it then. saw in it some flaws, but figured it was ... mostly whole. i read it again just today, and i wanted to cry with how lonely it sounded. wistful, hopeful... then crushed and lonely.
i've a year of stupidity and experience under my belt. have been loved. and though it did not last, i know i loved in return. i've broken hearts and had mine broken... and even now i am basically alone.
so why is it that i wrote a story about love, about being loved and quiet crushes... only to see it end with dialogue that means everything and nothing:
"i'm not brave."
"it doesn't have to mean more than it does. you looked pretty tonight."
it ends with a rosebud in her plam and him walking away, no resolution other than that the night ended. and i cannot believe how alone it sounds. just tone and atmosphere crashing from a dewy dreamer's high.
that's one of the last things i wrote, i think. something that worked well at the time and then life started to interfere. but i don't write anymore.
i don't write. and i wonder if it's because i don't have the time, or if sex has conquered my wistfulness, my longing. because, when it boils down to it, what i write lingers heavily in a romantic strain. searching for the one to make the world a bit less insane. and one of the last things i still felt like writing is... heartbreak and loneliness.
i should throw in the towel. maybe writing isn't for me. i love it, but i don't long for it like i used to. i don't feel compelled and i don't.... i kinda don't care anymore. maybe i am tired. or maybe my obsessions have changed. but i just...
i don't write anymore.
i've tried. believe me, i have tried to write. i've tried to be bigger than myself, be more than the sum of what i know. and even now... i don't write anymore.
i read something i wrote a year and a half ago. half truth, half wish series of vignetts for a night at a wedding. i wrote it over a year ago and i was in love with it then. saw in it some flaws, but figured it was ... mostly whole. i read it again just today, and i wanted to cry with how lonely it sounded. wistful, hopeful... then crushed and lonely.
i've a year of stupidity and experience under my belt. have been loved. and though it did not last, i know i loved in return. i've broken hearts and had mine broken... and even now i am basically alone.
so why is it that i wrote a story about love, about being loved and quiet crushes... only to see it end with dialogue that means everything and nothing:
"i'm not brave."
"it doesn't have to mean more than it does. you looked pretty tonight."
it ends with a rosebud in her plam and him walking away, no resolution other than that the night ended. and i cannot believe how alone it sounds. just tone and atmosphere crashing from a dewy dreamer's high.
that's one of the last things i wrote, i think. something that worked well at the time and then life started to interfere. but i don't write anymore.
i don't write. and i wonder if it's because i don't have the time, or if sex has conquered my wistfulness, my longing. because, when it boils down to it, what i write lingers heavily in a romantic strain. searching for the one to make the world a bit less insane. and one of the last things i still felt like writing is... heartbreak and loneliness.
i should throw in the towel. maybe writing isn't for me. i love it, but i don't long for it like i used to. i don't feel compelled and i don't.... i kinda don't care anymore. maybe i am tired. or maybe my obsessions have changed. but i just...
i don't write anymore.
no subject
Date: 2011-10-25 06:29 am (UTC)your writing inspires, and is enough to provoke visible shaking.
i hope this post does not still ring entirely true for you. you are a godsend, in many ways, not the least of which is in the literary sense. <3
you inspire me.
don't ever change.
-youknowwho