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note to self: i’ll be there for you, always

written june 6, 2021. Photo by Kristine Cinate on Unsplash I have always looked for myself in other people. I think the idea was that they would somehow hold the pieces of me that I felt were missing. That maybe, if I wrapped my identity up in theirs enough, we would somehow make a whole person. It's not healthy to live like this, but I did it anyway — burning through relationships and searching for something I couldn't quite name. It was never enough, not to be myself, but it was never enough to latch my identity to other people, either. I got close, several times — I thought I had reached the pinnacle of self discovery. I thought I had completed myself. But in the end, relying on other people to help build yourself is never a viable way to do things. It's only recently that I've started to become comfortable with the idea of being enough, as I am, on my own. Several years ago, in this same position, I would have searched for another person to attach my identity onto,

NaNoWriMo

I have a confession.

I'm in the midst of NaNoWriMo.

I hadn't told anyone because I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up and then back out. But since it's Week 3, I think there's little chance of doing that.

My story is going ... well, it's going. I hated it for a while. Then, after the introduction of a giant fridge, homicidal strangers, and a random knitting class of a bunch of old ladies, things are picking up.

My word count isn't as high as some people (*cough* Georgie Penn *cough*), but it's okay. I didn't expect to reach the ultimate goal anyway. For now I'm just writing as much as I possibly can, when I can. And that's all I can do.

My document has become a formatter's nightmare. I decided to throw perfection to the wind and go with whatever font inspires at me at the time. So far, my document looks like this:
Tonight I utilized the WriMo's best friend - Write or Die. I forgot to change the grace period to "forgiving" and instead left it at "strict", so it scared the daylights about me when I was suddenly greeted with the annoying strains of "Peanut Butter Jelly Time" after not writing for a minute. Later, I was graced by the presence of an off-key rendition of Fur Elise. Not to mention the bright red flashing screen that burned my eyeballs. (Those of you who have used Write or Die know what I mean.) It was annoying in the most extreme sense.

Well, at least it got me to write.

Comments

  1. *cough* Georgie Penn *cough* didn't get her word count in last night. Bad Georgie Penn.

    ReplyDelete

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