Something Amazing

I am enjoying my new position at my job. Quite a bit, actually.

So that’s good.

I am feeling strangely unfulfilled. I feel like my brain is just lagging a bit behind, I’m trying (Desperately) to create. I want to be ingenious. I want to be amazing. I want to be fantastic. All I can do is try my best. I can’t be angry for giving it my best, right?

Geek and Sundry has a new writing segment. I might watch it and try to participate. Maybe that will help.

Derringer Meryl [Amazing skills] Out

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On Occasion

I think about wrting into postsecret

I never do. I wonder on occasion if each person I interact with each day is carrying a secret not unlike myself.

I know for a fact that many people have secrets that are deep and dark that make their smiles during the day hollow and fake. That the secret they keep makes them wake up each day and have to reconcile who they are and their place in this world.

Some people’s secrets make them feel like they have a badge of honor, invisible as it is. When really they just can’t see that everyone else is wearing one too.

Some people are those who are the creator of the secret– some people are the secret keeper, or even a victim of the secret.  Some people read too much into their secret, sometimes people take their secret too lightly.  Some people feel bound by their secret, and some people are so freed and satisfied by their secret, that telling anyone– is insanity. Selfish.

I think the main reason I will never write into post secret is that I cannot bear for anyone to know. Even annonymously, I fear telling might shake the universe in such a way that God might turn his head away in shame.

So i”m being dramatic. I’m trying to flex my literary muscles.  I haven’t written seriously, since before I met Scott. I find little or no motivation.  I wish I could find it again. I feel like I’m searching in a pitch black cave for a diamond. While my writing is no where near as valuable to the world, it is even more so valuable than  that to me.  Some days I feel so inspired I Might burst from holding it in. But there is this dam holding all of my creativity back. At it’s root I would call it fear. I wouldn’t call myself in High School any where near fearless, but my writing was. I wrote my passion, I was inspired and introspective. Now any spare time is not spent self reflecting, but cleaning, cooking, and care-taking. Life marches on. I don’t regret a minute of it, but i miss it.

On my way back to work this afternoon I saw a cyclist not obeying stop signs. I have to say I… people like that don’t necissarily DESERVE to be hit by a car (by no means)  But if you’re going to break the rules don’t bitch when it happens!

I’m waiting for a ebay bid to end. C’mon 8PM!  I’m really excited.

off to finish work!

Derringer Meryl [thursday is one of the best days] Out

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