Wednesday, 11 March 2009
I was thinking, maybe it will be easier to start posting 'poetry' again if it's here, on the new blog. Perhaps an element of the courage-to-post struggle I've been experiencing is because lj is something that remains the same as from before what happened, so I don't want to go back? Which really annoys me, because I'd built up a good sense of community over there that I don't want to lose. Another element is probably that, technology wise (blogs in particular) I get bored easily of the interface, themes, general layout etc, so probably sub-consciously that was a part of it. All in all, I don't want to lose my writing because of this. He's taken enough; he's not taking this. Writing has always been important in my life, from the little stories I used to write as soon as I learnt how, to the many discarded attempts at novels, plays and movie scripts, but most importantly; my 'poetry'. Personally I hate the word 'poetry' (but we'll save that for another day) but I guess I've always written it. I'm a musician too and lyrics are basically poems, so 'writing poems' is something that comes naturally. Over the last 18 months or so my confidence as a writer had been growing, (you could say it was even overtaking my confidence as a person) as I found the courage to show my writings to those in the know. But now, after what happened, I find that my stomach fills with a crippling sense of dread at the thought of posting anything online, where anyone else can see it. I didn't, no couldn't, physically write anything for about a month after, but then gradually it started coming back to me; little phrases here and there, that would just pop into my head like they used to, need writing down again; complex rhymes and rythmns would float around and need to be accounted for; once more, I would find myself desperately having to write something down for fear of losing it. The mojo was returning. But now, at this stage, despite having written full 'poems' and pages on pages of phrases that all could be developed into something more, I still can't show it to anyone. If he had left me my ability to write, I would almost be able to forgive him everything else, but the fact that he has taken my confidence as a writer...sounds ridiculous I know, but it's true. Writing was all I had, it was the only thing that I was even slightly better at than others, it was my art. Maybe one day, it will be again. Here's hoping.