Barely coherent thoughts on writing as my sleeping pill kicks in and the no adulting zone

1. I wish I didn’t need to write, that it wasn’t essential to keeping me balanced or helping me understand myself. But if I didn’t need it, I’m not sure I’d be any good at it.

2. There is a particular feeling when I know what I’ve written something that will connect with others; it’s almost like I am blind to what I’m writing. It really is like I’m channelling something outside myself. I used to laugh when I read other writers describe a similar experience because it sounded quite hokey to me. I suspect I was laughing out of insecurity.

3. We appreciate spontaneity and speed in almost any endeavour. Not in writing. Writers are expected to commit to a long period of suffering. Rap battles make me question the validity of that expectation.

End of notes.

I’ve got two more days of self-isolation. My mood was all over the map today and giving my energy to anything other than breathing and not freaking out was tough. What’s healthier; acknowledging that things are pretty shit and letting myself feel shit, or putting some effort into activities that would benefit my mental health?

I did a bit of both, and they both helped in different ways. I think what I really want to do is build a fort in my living room. Like a panic room, but with fairy lights and walls I can colour on. Basically, a place where I can pretend I’m not a 40 year old with a job.

OMG that’s it. I need to build myself a no adulting zone.
I will build myself a no adulting zone.

(One last note:)

4. If I hadn’t written this blog post, I wouldn’t have thought of building a no adulting zone. Remember when blogging used to be about self-expression? Blogging has turned into this crass, money-grabbing world disguised as “content marketing that provides value” where everyone is more worried about ranking and coming across as some kind of guru or expert and all most of them are doing is regurgitating something someone else has said and packaged it differently.

Here’s something valuable for free: I know fuck all about anything and I hope I always feel that way. That feeling is why I keep challenging assumptions, reading loads and most importantly, writing. I learned from writing this blog post. I’m already richer than what I was when I started it. And slightly less cranky (but only just).