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I have just come across Anne Thériault's blog, and found this article on writing. I wish I could I identify with more of what she says, and more often than not, I do not feel like a writer. Except of course, when years pass, and I find someone to be crazy about, and reel in unrequited love or affection or what have you.
Anyway, here is a section of Thériault's essay that I want to share and keep:
Anyway, here is a section of Thériault's essay that I want to share and keep:
Write.
Just write.
In fact, I’ll even go so far as to say please write, because I promise you that there’s someone out there who’s dying to hear what you have to say, someone whose life might be changed by whatever sentiment you’re about to commit to paper or screen or cardboard-back-of-the-cereal-box. Write because you are the only person who has lived your particular life, and this has shaped your thoughts in such a way that you are the only one on this planet capable of expressing a thought in your own particular way.
Write because no other person who came before you or who will come after to you will ever, ever be able to do it in quite the same way that you can.
Autumn at 32 C
I miss someone I haven't met and I miss someone who let me go. I've been melancholy too these days a little sad and longing, more or less I miss the truth I thought I saw your heartfelt smile and broken words I miss the strength I thought I owned quiet adventures and more resolve I miss the life I thought I'd live and some places I've never been I miss some dreams of pleasant wings talent, beauty out of my reach The years will add more to the list, your name will be the thing amiss for I will no longer miss the voice, the smiles that lied to me
#unsent: accidentally
I came across your name by accident today. By typing half a name while looking for a friend. And there you were. The ghost of who you were. "I wish we could have been friends. For a while there I thought we were." A message that goes unsent, again.
#unsent: ignis fatuus, a mirage
I don't want to believe that you're a liar because I don't want to belive I've loved a monster. Scared but honest: I wanted to belive you were really trying. I wanted so many things and trusted so many words... your words to me. By letting you go I'm breathing better I'm starting to remember that bright colors don't need to be fugacious. I'm taking refuge in the beauty of foundations, in the steady ones that stay despite human falterings and flickers These days I am listening to your silence, and trusting its depths and seeing your hallow places, possibilities, ideas. I am flesh and bone and love of open hands and open talks. You're a flitting light on marshy ground luring in my hopes, inviting my smiles the scent of magnolias just to pass the time. It was all a mirage.
#unsent: All I Want
I've just come across a heartrending rendition of this song, and it is such an inmersive experience in it broken beauty...I wanted to share it with you. You didn't want to. Your silence has told me all I needed to know. All I wanted was for you to let me love you. To let me be, and be there. Tonight is a good night for love and conversation. This flood is a good night for breaking, for feeling the shards, for emptiness. Tonight is a good night for the brokenhearted ones.
© 2015 - 2024 bundle-w
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