Stream of consciousness

Autumn has just started here. It’s cool outside.

Still struggling to begin the first 20 pages of the novel I am writing; I’ve had encountered several days of writer’s block. Some obstacles were insurmountable that to perfect one sentence drove me on the verge of insanity.

As a writer I am so vulnerable.

I shall never be able to comprehend the way of the world. I may profess to have understood its subtleties, but will never be able to make an all-encompassing generalization.

I’m only 22. But God!

When will I grow up?

When will i stop fearing, worrying?

A friend told me that a wife of a communist leader in Vietnam during the 60s chose to commit suicide than to be used as a hostage to force her husband to give up his principles.

One is freer to stand by the truth he believes in if he’s alone.

What separates him from his truth is a void where his very own life is not adequate to fill in.

But will be unbearably painful if his loved one’s blood is sacrificed.

Such is a writer’s life.

My eyes are blurry. The glare coming from my laptop is just too much to bare inside my dim room. I might need a pair of glasses.

I am taken aback by the sound of my phone’s vibration. A message.

Why do I have to be too young? Why can’t I just be old enough to see my world maturely?

The glare is killing me.

I’ll never stop writing; I’ll die if I do.


2 thoughts on “Stream of consciousness”

  1. Hi, again!

    I just wanted to add a comment to these beautiful words, but i face a huge blank when I try to push the letters on my keyboard and the only thing that comes to my mind at this moment is this:

    “But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
    I have spread my dreams under your feet;
    Tread softly because you tread upon my dreams. ” W.B.Y.

    To me the situation is a little different. I am also very young, actually I am 20, but the people around me don’t see me as beeing young but as beeing much older than I am. they say this because I am serios, and respectful and all these other things adults do. And the problem is that when I tend to do things that define my age I look a little strange in their eyes. But I realised that the outside is nothing, the inside is everything.
    And in time I found that the best way to express the inside without beeing so harshly judged is by writing, painting, drawing, singing, and so on.

    So I think you shouldn’t worry to much about it. You are what you are and nothing can change that.

    I allways say: ” Let go, give in and take the journey.”

    Kisses! :)))

  2. hi. i’m BINH. i’m your student at london language center. i’ve read your lament. i sympathize with you. it’s awful,i spended it when i came here to learn. see you again.goodluck!

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