Friday, 02.17.2012 - 10:45 pm.
I've written so much this week. I have a personal blog (personal, not intimate like this one), a psychology blog and Simeon's webcomic, and I wrote in all of them at least twice this week. I'm very proud of this! It was a wonderful exercise in thinking and being disciplined.
On top of that, I think I'm writing a new book. I wrote a short story to add to a pile of ideas I already have and it's shaping up. But see, that comes from a different vein. In my last entry, I tried to avoid talking about Joseph. Only because I was sick of feeling like shit and feeling hurt.
And I said, hell, why don't I just fucking write about it? Like, fucking write about it. Literature. Published. Made public. I thought of just taking my entries since he dumped me to when I left for Chile (on his birthday), and simply translating them to my mother language. My story, literal version. Then I didn't think it was a wonderful idea. Good, maybe, but not wonderful. Plus I don't want to read all that and relive it. Fuck that shit, man.
Some weeks ago, my best friend Victoria sent me a YouTube link and she said, this reminds me of you. It was Adele's "Someone like you". I had heard "Rolling in the deep" (and mostly, seen it in my favorite meme, 60's Spiderman) and I was aware the singer had gone through a heartbreaking story similar to mine. I did cry when I heard the lyrics of both songs. Didn't turn me into a fan of hers but I certainly felt sympathy and empathy. And I felt validated.
So I figured I'd try to turn my seemingly pathological pain into something...um, less painful? Wouldn't that be nice? I spent a whole day feeling afflicted, being haunted by all these hurtful stories to tell without and idea on how to tell them without being literal. Without giving it all away, as much as I'd like that.
Suddenly, I got this idea. My mood instantly turned to gold. And I'm working on it, putting it together with a few old pieces I've written before. Yeah, ok, working on it is a stretch. I think about it a lot and I like it. I'm comfortable with the idea. I'm HAPPY with the idea.
After a lot of thinking, I sat down yesterday and rewrote what happened on october 18th, 2008. I know, so long ago. What can I say, I'm traumatized. I really am. I wrote it and halfway through it I gave it a twist and it went to the future and returned and finished where it started. I was quite pleased with the way it turned out.
Andrew looked at me as I was finishing the draft. I had my headphones on and he spoke to me in sign language (he knows a bit, isn't he nice?), saying I looked upset. I suppose I was. It wasn't so hard writing it, but I wasn't indifferent either. I felt relieved afterwards. Released. Lighter.
So I have my resolution to write down everything that comes to mind regarding Joseph. And guess what happens? I stop thinking about it! Thank you, Paradoxical Intention! Hahaha, I can hardly believe it. I've had the most Joseph-free week ever thanks to my intention of thinking about him every second.
No, but seriously, now I gotta think of him or else there will be no book. At least not this book of short stories, and it's shaping up nicely...yeah, well, that's just my opinion.
I did dream of him last night, you know. He invited me to a rock concert and I thought he'd stood me up, but then he showed up at my house in a white jeep, wearing a white t-shirt and shorts (he, who generally wears, or used to wear, dark colors). My parents were upset that I was seeing him and yes, he was married; he always is, in my dreams, as he is in real life. So I don't really know why he was inviting me to rock concerts.
Nevermind.
I gotta keep up with my writing. Hell, I may even become a writer someday.
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