Posted: August 3, 2011 in Just Life

I have this problem that kind of goes along with writing. You know how some people are drunken texters and 2:04 a.m. callers when the bar closes. Well, I’m like that with email minus the alcohol.

If I’m feeling down or up, lost, or worried I start banging the keyboard. When I was younger I used the old fashioned journal, but because you feel like no one will ever read what you’re writing it’s easier to simply stop at the first hand cramp.

However, I must admit that I think people who write in their diary somehow secretly want someone to find it and read every personal moment. I mean do those people really think a little lock set is keeping any serious reader away? Do we really fill page after page to just stay tucked under the mattress until we die? I have a hard time believing that for some reason.

Anyway, I find myself in an awkward position with some friends of mine who I completely respect and enjoy having in my life who never discourage my odd behaviors. It’s as if I have no control and send them the rough drafts of my life.

I just spew forth a bunch of whiney pathetic ramblings about anything from my basement woes to having a stomachache from eating too many Peanut Chews. I don’t spell check or reread them because I’m normally falling asleep while writing.

It is obvious to me that I am out of control and need a self-intervention before I start revealing that I bite my toenails in my sleep or something (gross I don’t do that).

I really don’t want to be that person sending out weird messages in the night and then feeling embarrassed the next day. So today begins day one of my emailing recovery. I will only send emails that are a hundred words or less, spell check them, and focus on a more positive persona to all for the next thirty days.

It’s not fair to drown the people trying to save you from a flash flood, right?

  1. Jennifer Long/Janus Photo Arts says:

    Sometimes the flash floods just teach you to swim a little harder. I personally love the details. 🙂

  2. One on each side we look down to the bottom
    at the flash flood of words coursing fast like our blood-
    From the ledge at the top our two hearts are pounding
    at the thought of the power we create with our minds.
    And the danger rises in time with the river
    as deeper and deeper the implications become;
    If our fate is to ride on the tide of our poems
    we first must submit to the will of the fall.

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