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Distracted

Distraught?

By Kai GracePublished 5 years ago 3 min read
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He has been talking about distraction. What is a distraction? Is someone blowing horns around him? Is someone tapping their foot against his desk? Maybe he’s doing that annoying leg jiggling thing. Am I a distraction? Do I have distractions? When was the last time I’d written something and not edited everything I was thinking. Even just then, I had to make myself resurface a thought, so that I wrote it and didn’t ignore it.

I waste a lot of time. Like a lot. I awoke at seven, after going to bed at maybe 11:15 ish. Slept relatively well. Didn’t actually get up at seven; turned over went back to sleep. Slept until eight stayed in bed until 10 something then, finally, actually got up. All that time, I could’ve run, eaten, read something, anything.

I disable myself. I distract myself.

Every few months or years I reread some of my poems, unfinished books, lyrics, whatever. Think about the person I was, the place I was in. Thinking maybe it will charge up those skills, refresh my train of thought and make me finish something or begin something new. But maybe it’s not healthy. I’m not the same person, I’m not in the same place. I need to write something new, I need to write from the newer me. Then, I think, write what? Maybe the newer me is boring and she’s not heartbroken and she doesn’t have anything to say (obviously this is a lie I tell myself).

I googled “how to start writing again.” I click an article from the first page, scan it a few seconds till I find “the meat.” You know, like you learn in school, the writing sandwich? The bun, the toppings, THE MEAT, the dressing, the other bun. Well, the meat of the story (Ha!) was to write without purpose. Meaning to write for yourself, without intent of publishing, without worrying if the grammar is right, if the punctuation is correct, if you’re “doing it write.” Just let words come out, ideas form, questions be asked. Write.

So... I’m writing.

I realized I spend a ton more time doing mind numbing things like watching TV instead of being productive. Productivity. What is it? Is it doing something for other people, maybe doing anything that yields results? Results like...emotional response, tangible response. Then I think, anything that makes me feel like the opposite of BLAH. Which I feel quite often. I feel like "eh" and "blah," and I’m tired of feeling that way.

So... I’m writing.

Again, I edited my thoughts. I do not want to be the “sad” author, the “who am I” author. But why not? Maybe she is me. And what would be so wrong about that? When will paint again, why can’t I seem to find inspiration to make something new, to go somewhere new? To travel places with my new car and experience it all from a new perspective?

I thought learning new languages would be more fulfilling. And they are, somewhat. But if I don’t go anywhere, who am I talking to? What good are they in my head, rusting and stimulating no one and nothing.

My mind seems to be too tame these days, when it was once fire. I’m trying to find balance between reminiscing and learning. Am I going over the old for inspiration? Or am I going over the old because I miss that author’s spirit.

What is my purpose?

Am I still a writer?

Why am I here?

Where am I supposed to be?

And what in the world am I doing?

goals
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About the Creator

Kai Grace

I have a lot of thoughts.

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