The Schizophrenic Writer – and other ridiculously accurate ideas

Don’t you all make me a liar, now.

Please tell me I’m not the only one standing, at times, in a living room, all alone, having conversations out loud with myself, trying to sound out who these people are, the images they represent.

What do they want out of life? What does life want out of them?

Please tell me I’m not the only one furtively scribbling, willing to sacrifice my ability to potentially read it later on the off chance that the person next to me might decipher the neurotic scribbling and think me mad.

But I have to capture it – because if I miss that dialogue, that line of music, that particular drop of rain – it’s gone.

Please tell me I’m not the only one washing dishes in the sink and suddenly realizing I’m standing there, hands loose in the soapy water as my mind spins gloriously perfect sentences – which are of course forgotten before I dry my fingers.

Please tell me I’m not the only one ripping the tabs off tea bags because they have the most amazing quotes, saving the slips inside fortune cookies, collecting my Dove wrappers, attempting to sneakily rip a bit of newspaper or ad out because somehow it sparks the thought I’ve been seeking.

And please – please do tell me I’m not the only one who greets the morning with more of a curse than a song on their lips. And then swiftly blesses the coffee pot.

It’s not an easy load we bear!

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s