“Writing your story again?!” The Chinese lady boss exclaimed as she wiped the table around me at my spot by the window.
“No, no. This is just my journal.”
But I suppose my story doesn’t end, so yes I am.
Twenty minutes ago I had decided that I would not write any more of this month-long blogging commitment.
I felt absolutely no desire to write anything.
But then that conversation happened and it felt fun and I felt like writing it.
This is what I wrote in my journal :
Ok yes I really have nothing else to say for now so I’ll just take a break. It’s not something I feel like doing. Blogging. Should I continue this month of blogging Spleen? Perhaps. No. I’m tired & just want to work on my book. Perhaps this month was for this reason only.
To make me stop.
I guess if you can’t be bothered, why bother?
If you’re never going to blog 5x/week, why does it matter if you see if blogging 5x/week improves the Google algorithm?
What I’ve discovered in these two weeks is that I don’t want to 1)be a manifesting teacher 2)be a full-time blogger or 3) write on relationships.
Your true vocation is in creative writing.
It’s the thing I can do 5x/week with no problem.
And more than creative writing, narrative non-fiction (memoir) in book form.
But sometimes it’s nice to put something out there, except it doesn’t have to be consistently. Yay.
I just want to be here staring at the dancing trees.
The man who came to talk to me to ask about my books I was rude to, short with, cos fuck I said hi when I entered and order my almond milk cappuccino & then didn’t go to speak to him but parked myself in the corner to write.
If you can’t pick up social cues, that’s not my problem.
He came & tapped me on the shoulder to ask if my book had been published.
I kept my body turned & could barely open my mouth due to the cold sore in the left corner.
I made it into 3 books & no, not yet published, I said.
This is the thing, I must’ve talked to him once in social phase but now it’s moon phase & I’m not feeling well anyway.
The left gland is swollen as well.
I’ll go home for lemon & honey and rest.
Away from the prying eyes & questions of the people who know me here.
