I finally accepted last night that I have no idea how to write a single-topic post. I write the way I talk (which is the way I think): starting with a basic idea and jumping from one rabbit hole into another. Maybe this is why my past attempts at writing novels turned out to be failures. I could never keep the story on a single track.
For the past two weeks I have been writing, rewriting, scrapping, writing and procrastinating writing posts for my blog series, ‘People Who Read People’. I’ve drawn diagrams, typed up outlines, even verbally explained to myself how the post should be organized, but when I try to express what I want to say it turns into one apparent line of thought being flung into several different lines at once. I’ve come to accept that, no matter how cut and dry I want my PWRP series to be, I’m just going to have to let myself ramble.
In other news, yet another long talk with Heather has brought me back into indecision.
I have given up trying to think that I have the willpower to not change my mind about where I want to go. So I’ve been writing down my favorite states on scraps of paper, along with favorite places to go in my free time (like antique shops, parks, museums, the opera ect.,) along with random states that I chose by pulling up Google Maps and blindly sticking a post-it to the screen with an arrow on it, tossing the scraps into my black top hat, and pulling out a few pieces of paper at a time. At one point I was inspired by a scene from I Love Lucy where Lucy decides which bills to pay by throwing them up in the air and paying whatever lands face-up. The scraps took forever to clean up (I probably should have shut my windows and turned off the fan first…) but I have slightly narrowed my options.
I had been trying to decide where to go based on relationships, where I might have family and old friends, because people are so essential to my life. To have that human connection, the assurance that I’ll always feel…safe, knowing that they’re within reach if I need help. But life isn’t just about relationships, it’s about living. If I do apply somewhere else I will be cutting it awful close to a lot of deadlines, but this feeling of needing to become brilliant, to become something more than ordinary, to do my own personal research, the kind that I got a taste of when I conducted my rorschach inkblot experiment last year at The Center, has been growing every single day. I can say with confidence that I have no idea where I will be or what I will be doing six months from now. I can only dream and attempt, the rest is up to the unpredictable days and nights. I just don’t want to be alone wherever I go, but I know how quickly I get attached to new people (and vice versa), so I won’t be alone for long, I’m sure.
Until I Write Again,
P.S. If you have any suggestions for a state or city, do tell me in the comments below! Any suggestion is welcomed!