Whitney Houston Used to be Able to Sing
August 16, 2010
And I used to be able to write. I used to stay up all night writing, pages after pages, one notebook after the next. I used to fill the margins of legal pads with my every rambling, question, idea. Writing was a way to categorize all the scattered thoughts in my brain, a way to contain all the fleeting emotions in my heart, a way to sort out all the things that I was unsure of. the ink-on-paper scribblings somehow made sense of what I didn’t quite understand. It helped.
But then I stopped writing. The crate of notebooks in my closet sat there collecting dust, and got buried deeper and deeper with time. I thought about keeping them when I was packing to move to LA; but they took up too much space, so I threw them out. I knew I would never be able to get them back, but I did it anyways, perhaps for the dramatic effect, or maybe for the fact that I could throw away my past and feel nothing.
There’s been a lot of changes in my life the last few months. I’ve had this feeling in my gut for awhile, but couldn’t really put a finger on it. I woke up the other day and realized it’s the feeling of being overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with what, I don’t know. With work? With living. With changes. With nothing at all. I tried to sit down with a notepad and a pen; nothing came out. The blank lines of my steno pad stared back at me as I blankly stared at it. I realized that it’s been a really long time since the last time I wrote something.
I’d like to start writing again. I know now that life’s all about moderation. I don’t have to spend all my time behind closed doors writing sad prose or over-analyzed ramblings, but I also don’t have to blindly live life without taking a step back to see it objectively once in a while, either. As overwhelmed as I am, I’m in a good place right now. I think I’m finally learning how to meet myself in the middle. I’m going to start writing again. There are way too much unprocessed, uncategorized, and unanalyzed thoughts piled up in my head. Maybe that’s why I’ve been getting these migraines lately.
So yeah, I’m gonna try to write again. Now if someone could please tell Whitney Houston to stop doing drugs in the middle of her concerts and stop disappointing her fans.. it’s unbecoming of a diva.
