06 December 2012
It's one of those nights. Or maybe one of those days. Where the world seems too big and not in a good way. And I look around my room, flip through Catcher in the Rye for a few minutes. Scroll down Google Reader and see all the writers I'm surrounded by. All the kids my age or younger. All the words they've written. Everything I'll never be able to write. All I have are shaky words stacked up against all the poetry ever written and my words don't stand a chance.
There's a Jaymay song- I don't even remember the name of the song, but whenever I'm doing anything that doesn't require a lot of thought, even just standing at the kitchen counter making coffee, the lyrics will repeat in my head. "I know I'm always writing so you think I'm good with words but I can hardly express how I feel." I've listened to those lyrics hundreds of times and they never become less true.
Sometimes I get too used to people telling me I'm a good writer. They just become words, words that are too easy to shrug off.
Tonight is not one of those times. Tonight, it's becoming too easy to think that I'll never be able to write what I want to write. I feel like the only things that I can write are just other people's thoughts, repeated in my clumsy way.
This post isn't me asking you to tell me I'm wrong. (I understand that this feeling will go away by the morning.) This is just me, trying to be honest. Trying to be vulnerable in a way I'm not used to.
written by Katie