Talking to Myself

I’m afraid that if you’re in the mood for cognizance or coherence, you’ll have to try somewhere else today.  But if you’re okay with the beleaguered, sentimental musings of a college student directly in the middle of studying for final exams, then come on in; the water’s fine.

I’ve written my way through some busy times on this blog, managing to post at least something every Sunday for almost a year now, through paper-writing, holidays, and even once after wisdom teeth surgery.  But at the moment, I’m having trouble putting enough words on the page so that it won’t float away in the coming breeze.  Roll with my metaphors; it’s almost 2 am when I’m writing this.

So what’s the cause of my writer’s block this time?  Is it lack of time, lack of ideas, lack of motivation?  Yes and no to all counts.  It’s true that I should be studying right now, or at least going to sleep so I can wake up early tomorrow to study, and it’s true that none of the prompts in my post ideas document are singing to me right now.  And at this point, I’m fairly concerned motivation is a myth.  But really the reason I haven’t just thrown out a list of my favorite little things about writing or a discussion of the latest book I’ve read (who am I kidding, I haven’t read anything non-academic in weeks) is that I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed.  But, somewhat uncharacteristically, I mean that in a good way.

I don’t know why it keeps surprising me when twenty-four hours turns out to be a lot of time when a lot can happen, but here I am anyway at the end of a day that felt more like three and a half because it held so much.  So much worry and so much joy.  So much waiting and so much rushing.  So much conversation, and so much silence.  So much, so much, so much.  I’m bone tired and happy to the core.  With all that happening around you, you would think that the one thing that could be counted on as reliable and consistent would be yourself, serving as the epicenter, as the fulcrum of your life.  But that’s one of the many points where you’d be wrong.  I’d advise you to get used to the feeling, if I’d advise you anything at all.

Who do you think is talking when words come out of your mouth?  Has a part of your personality, a part of your brain, merely put on a disguise?  And which one is it this time?  Where is your truth and when will you accept it?  How could you be interesting?  Such are the questions that have run through my head today.  Such is the nonsense of note.  They obviously carry no relevance apart from instilling panic at a deeper than personal level, but it’s always interesting to see the new lows imposter syndrome can reach.

We’re not going to leave it off there.  Dubious existentialism has no place among scholars and wordsmiths.  Only certain existentialism here, please.  There are leaves on the trees and snow on the horizon and good people within reach.  There is strangeness at our fingertips and chaos in our brains but there are also rosaries in backpacks and philosophy in rom-coms.  And what a thing it is to have all of this presented to you.  You’re just a student with writer’s block in the middle of studying for final exams.  What a thing it is.



Colossians 2:2

P.S.  Thank you for reading if you’ve gotten this far.  Coherence will hopefully return next Sunday, so stay tuned.  Hope you have a great week.


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