I’m Afraid Of Writing

I’m afraid of writing. And by “I’m afraid of writing,” I mean that I’m afraid of being alone.

I have an unhealthy fear of loneliness. That sentence in itself is a post for another day. It’s not so much people not liking me that scares me (although I’m not immune to that fear). More often, I find myself afraid of being by myself. This is no good for someone who wants to be a writer. Writing, for most people, and most certainly for me, is a task that most often must be undertaken alone. If I want to write, my company usually comes in the form of a park bench, or a desk, or the quiet solitude of a library or perhaps a cat. None of these things are people. I must sit down with myself until I can get myself to write something, anything, and then I stare at it for a long time.

To write about anything remotely personal is to be alone with yourself. You have to sit down, and look at yourself in a mirror. Most of us often use mirrors that function like funhouse mirrors, distorting and twisting. The only difference is that we sometimes believe those images to be our true reflection, rather than a warped perception that comes about as a result of our own self-judgement.

Once you’ve written something, if you want to let it out of your head and into the world you face a whole new can of potential lonely worms. Words are safe as long as they are kept in the privacy of a folder, whether real or electronic, but if you let them out? If you let them out then people can judge your words, people can laugh, people can misinterpret. Fear of loneliness strikes again; what if no one understands? What if no one cares? What if you spent all that time alone only to find that your words are lonely too?

The other side of this coin, of course, is the possibility that someone might connect to your words. Someone might read them and say, “I’ve been there! I’ve felt that! I understand you.” This possibility, for me, makes writing a risk worth taking. All of the cliches and filtered photos with cool graphic designer fonts have informed me that fears are something to be faced if you want to live life to the fullest. So, even though I’m afraid of writing, afraid of being alone, maybe there is a lesson to be learned from facing those fears. Maybe I’ll discover that I’m not so alone as I might feel sometimes.

“and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age..”

All The World’s Not A Stage

A couple of weekends ago some friends and I drove over to Dallas to go to a concert. On the drive over, rather then get an early start on my homework, I used the time to philosophize as I stared out the window,  drifting in and out of conversation and soaking in the Texas scenery as it flowed by. This is a process most commonly known as  procrastination.

While I was procrastinating  philosophizing, I started thinking about my major (theatre) and about Shakespeare’s famous words from the melancholy Jacques’ monologue in As You Like It: Continue reading

Doublespeak

When my dad first got a cell phone with texting abilities, one of the first text messages I received from him looked something like this:

WHEN ARE YOU COMING HOME

Alarmed by the implied screaming, I quickly responded “before midnight” and wondered why my dad was so upset. After a few minutes of racking my mind as to what I must have done to deserve the wrath of all caps, my phone buzzed and I got this: Continue reading

Let’s Write

I’m sitting here trying to figure out how to wrap up 2013 in writing. My family is preparing for a small New Years gathering with a few of our family friends. My mom by making finger foods, and my dad and my brother by watching football. I’m staring at my laptop, listening to the Avett Brothers croon about love and a woman. I’ve got a lot on my mind. Continue reading

Auditioning Is Scary

AuditioriumI wonder how Victor Hugo would feel about his behemoth of a novel, Les Miserables, becoming a musical. Would he smile at the script, fondly tapping his foot along with the music of the orchestra? Would he feel that squeezing his many words into a four-hour performance is an injustice? Would he shed a tear while witnessing Val Jeans’s transformation, his heart soaring with the notes? I don’t know.

What I do know is that in less than a day I will be auditioning for the role of Enjolras, Continue reading

Sunshine and Rain

I wrote this for a friend and wanted to share it with you all. Hope you enjoy it.

The world is a contradiction. Like the sun shining in the middle of a storm, or a beautiful disaster, it doesn’t make sense. We are broken, all of us, and when people hurt, they tend to lash out. They don’t understand why, they don’t care to dig deeper, all they know is something hurts, and someone else must suffer the consequences. A few us have learned that living that way doesn’t solve anything. We know that breaking other people does not put our own pieces back together. You know that, and I know that, but many others don’t. So when we look around and Continue reading

All The Time In The World

“If you knew how much work went into it you would not call it genius” -Michelangelo

I’ve been thinking about beauty lately. Specifically, beauty in the form of art; created by human hands shaping the world in which they have been placed. Michelangelo knew something about beauty. Some might call his work a masterpiece. Carved over the course of two years, Pieta was the only creation of his that he ever signed, something he later regretted and vowed never to do again. The piece is considered one of the greatest works of sculpture ever created, if not the greatest. And what struck me most about the piece was this one fact: Continue reading