I know, I know, bad joke. Moving on swiftly…
I am occasionally very emotionally charged. This happens often.
What does not happen often, is me deciding to channel it into writing.
I prefer to eat junk food, cry into my pillow, scroll through Instagram for hours and hours, start conversations with people I have not spoken to in a while, lose myself in the worm hole that is YouTube, take a nap…you get the idea. Never anything too constructive.
Very rarely do I use this emotional energy to create.
However, when I do channel it into writing, I find myself feeling literary about literally everything!(See what I did there?) Even the most mundane of occurrences, I feel like I could write a thousand words about and find great depth and meaning in.
This is the opposite of writer’s block. Writer’s overload I shall baptise it. Inspiration overload?
When the thoughts and ideas are literally tumbling out of your skull. When no sooner have you started to sequence one thought than another comes tumbling out, catching the former in the act of…becoming. Sometimes interfering with each other’s creation such that they get tangled together and you are left no longer sure of what parts belonged where as the ideas, coming in to contact with each other in so rudimentary a form, leave unidentifiable pieces of themselves stuck on each other. (Might I add, when the continuity of thoughts seems too perfect to ruin with punctuation so you end up with paragraph-long sentences. Please excuse me, this is merely a manifestation of my eagerness.)
My most recent inspiration overload happened a few weeks ago, my latest one is currently happening now, as I write this, but I have promised myself to not proceed with penning any of my new ideas before the ones from last time are well completed and published, so here goes.
As I was saying, my most recent inspiration overload happened a few weeks ago and I decided to, in very traditional fashion, take my pen and notebook and write it all down.(I did not do this willingly, I prefer to type but we were on holiday and I had left my machine at home.) My notes are all over the place and messy but I can decipher most of it. Please humour me…some of these thoughts were very random and fleeting, but the essence of this post is to capture that very characteristic.
I thought of a smile. I cannot remember why, but I thought of a smile. I thought of how big, bright, beautiful and flawless smiles could be, yet if you really think about it, if you look closely enough, even these smiles have cracks. The spaces, crevices between individual teeth, cracks…no? Liken this to life, what we see versus what is actually going on. What we portray to the world versus what would be discovered under the hood upon closer inspection.
I happened to take a dump, excuse my French, and after flushing, I stood there for a few seconds waiting to ensure that all evidence really did go down the drain. Just to clear the air, (see what I did there?) I am not in the habit of watching my poop go down the drain, but I had noted that this particular toilet had a bad habit of leaving some residue after flushing. I also noted how unusually loud the flushing sounds made by the cistern were. What a racket this toilet made, a big show of taking care of all loose ends, but always leaving traces. Even the toilet was proving a fraud!
Then, from some of the more well-formed thoughts came three whole posts that I have already penned, you should check them out if you haven’t already:
In hindsight, as I have already mentioned, some of those thoughts seem silly.
Others led to a thousand words that gave me great satisfaction to write and will give me great satisfaction to come back to a week, 6 months, 5 years from now.
I’m excited to be indulging my emotional sensitivity and using it to create as opposed to being moody and whining about life. (Perhaps I am simply just doing the same thing but in writing? This matters not, I love to write and anything that gets me writing is a welcome addition to my life.)
Now that I have made peace with my last inspiration overload, onto all the ideas that are currently tripping over each other, tumbling out of my head…
One last thing to wrap this all up, I imagined this exchange between God and I, me whining about the inconvenience of my very emotional nature and the best God-like response I could think of…
Kathleen: Must I feel everything so deeply?
God: What will you write if you don’t?