So everyone is talking about it. Hurricanes. That’s the big thing on everyone’s mind. But what about your own personal hurricane? The turmoil and destructive force that is your heart and soul combined?
I have ventured into writing again, and I have to say I am very disappointed. Men focus way too much on sex, even in their writing. I understand that when you sign up on an “Adult” roleplaying site, you are going to get that. But why do I get the feeling that I am just in the company of a bunch of horny millennials living their lives vicariously through their avatars and fantasies? Like Danny Glover said, “I am too old for this shit.”
In writing essentially “his” story, I was feeling so stifled. I felt like I was constrained to a novice partner. I will admit there was a talented writer on that site that got my attention, but he ignored my message so he can fuck off. Is it so hard to find a talented writer to work with out there? Where things just flow and make sense? It seems really difficult to find.
So the storms. With the aftermath of Harvey and Irma, we are now looking at Maria and what she has done to Puerto Rico. Jose just finished battering our NYC coastline, bringing with him lots of humid weather and rain. My personal hurricane is a bit more destructive, I feel. I am tired, beaten down by life, and my bipolar is just kicking my ass today. I am so tired again, and this is just from staying up too late. I would LOVE a nap, but I know that is quite impossible, if I want to fix my sleep patterns. Why the hell can’t I get a good night’s rest? Why won’t my body shut down and sleep, get what it needs and let me wake up feeling rested? How come I am forced out of my bed at 10am when I fell asleep at 5am? This battle with sleep is getting tired and getting old, and my frustration is mounting.
And now I am suffering in my writing plight. How do you tell a writer that he sucks? I suppose I should give it a chance and have more of a think about it. He said he was only expecting a few posts a week, and being incredibly impatient and bipolary, I am jumping way ahead of the game. I need to take it easy and just calm down. But how do I do that? How do I shut off this racing mind of mind? Churning, turning, like the bands of a hurricane, the eye in the middle being calm. Where is my “eye?” Where can I find my calm? Even a hurricane has moments of intense clarity and peace among all the destruction. Why can’t I?
I need hope. I need direction. I need to keep my damn eyes open! Bipolar life is hard. How am I ever going to work full-time again? I am so scared. So scared of what life is going to do to me. Scared at how it may chew me up and spit me out. I need to refocus. Gather my strength, hone my craft, and of course try my best.
Are there any good writers in the world left who want to write a story with me?
Where are you my prince with a pen?
Come find me, please.