I dont’ know what to write.
So I should not write.
Do you write when you dont know what to write? Or when you don’t feel like writing?
Do you make yourself write? Or do you wait. Do you wait until you feel it again?
Sometimes people say it’s good to take a break. What if you could take a break for years? Would that be good for you?
Or maybe you’re just a little stuck.
What do you do when your stuck?
One time my brother got his hand stuck in a vending machine. This was sad. They had to call the fire department.
Another thing that is sad is my mom got lost last week.
I should not write personal things. Do you think we should not write personal things? I dont think we should because then a stranger could walk up to me and say, i heard your mom got lost and I’d feel sick inside because why do they know that? Why do they think can get to know that and then I think, oh wait, that’s my fault. I wrote that on a blog.
One time I wrote a personal essay about getting kissed upside down by a boy I thought liked me and then he never called me back. We met one night on the fourth of July and he kissed me and i thought that meant he liked me so then I was happy and I waited for him to call. When he didn’t call and didn’t call and didn’t call I realized that I just got played by an upside down kisser. I wrote an essay about that and how I kept thinking he was going to call. I turned that essay in to my workshop group in graduate school and after they all read it, the room fell silent.
Do you like to read the words the room fell silent?
The room fell silent because most of them were writing literary fiction about deep things and I waited for them to critique my upside down kissing episode. No one knew what to say because they felt sad for me. I said, it’s okay. And they said, it is okay. You know that right? You’re such a great girl and someone very nice will someday want to be your boyfriend. And I said, what?
I’ve been thinking about how we all have stories. We have important stories and we should spend time telling those stories. Why are we scared of each others stories? Why are we scared to tell them? Why do I feel safe telling them sometimes but other times not at all? Why is it easier to write things that are hard rather than say things that are hard? Why are we not like each other at all but almost exactly like each other if we really knew?
When you write, people find out things. Do you want them to find out things?
How do you decide what to write? How do you decide how to spend your time?
My mom used to tell me what to do. She was bossy. In a good way. Sometimes I wish she would tell me what to do. I wish she would tell me what to write. I wish she was my boss and I did what she told me to do and I could know that it was right because my mom was usually right.
I dont know what to write. I’m sorry.