I have the urge to write again.
The editor doubter is loud in my ear.
A heavy touch ripping away commas, words, and thoughts.
It’s been years of her
snapping up my words.
She wants stand up straight
and spell it correctly.
No made up words.
No sentences that start with. And
I was slow to learn.
Letters and numbers mixed up and bumbling over ahead several words ahead.
I was told I couldn’t write.
Don’t even try.
Don’t do it that way.
Do not do it this way.
He said, she shouts, they whisper.
Be more creative, more descriptive.
Write what you know.
I know I moved on, I let the editor doubter go.
Looked past the carefully chosen words from the thesaurus to describe:
Stupid.
Foolish.
And there she is again.
10th grade English class, standing taller than me. Dark hair. Angry. Telling me to stop,
telling me I’m doing it wrong—
so don’t do it at all.
I want to write again.
The urge is biting at my fingers faster than she can erase my words.
i dont care if it’s bad
I want to write again.
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Me when I haven’t even started my finals yet and already get bombarded by people telling me I’m basically jobless and broke already and only gonna live on social benefits if I don’t start collecting job offers RIGHT THIS MOMENT like. brother I’m so burnt out, the old pans in the kitchen cabinet got nothing on me and if I have to face one more thing connected to graphic design when I’m done with this, I’m going to spontaneously combust
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sometimes I feel like I went to elementary school in like the 1970s in comparison to my 10 years ish younger cousins 😹
since I didn’t eat pork I very often got special food since pork was the most common meat they’d serve at school, which meant I always got my food last and I couldn’t ask for the school kitchen staff to give me less (they hardly ever did that when people asked to, though). the most common replacement was soy sausages which are absolutely gross imo and I still can’t eat them, and bc I got my food last teachers kept a hawk eye on me to make sure I finished, and I was never allowed to leave before finishing, no matter how bad the food tasted and even though I ate a lot of it…I was called immature and childish and spoiled for not wanting to eat, and while my classmates finished their food (which they got earlier and I assume was better tasting since the recipes were adapted for pork) and played outside I always had to sit with teachers watching over me until the older students came…
apparently this is not a thing at all anymore, like 10-15 years later, my aunts and uncles were shocked I had to go through what they did as kids too when I’m closer in age to their children
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Grade is a 79.20 went down like 6 and I got a 6 on the test she’s a bitch
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Saw someone on Twitter complaining that tv shows and books and such made during modern times often don’t depict anything having to do with the pandemic and how it’s some big conspiracy about pandemic denial and I can understand why someone would think that considering all the denial irl but personally I don’t want to depict Covid in my work because the pandemic completely affected so many aspects of our lives and by depicting it in my work I’d have to completely change so many parts of my stories because there’s no way the events would go as planned if there was a pandemic happening and I’ve been writing these stories for YEARS, since before the pandemic, and I don’t want to change anything and even if the work was new, how do you incorporate this huge life event into your story without it taking away all the focus?
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