My metaphors are odd, mismatched
My word choices are unusual, maybe nonsensical…
The author and site owner can be reached at leeundercedartrees@gmail.com.
My metaphors are odd, mismatched
My word choices are unusual, maybe nonsensical…
I write not on account of skill, as I am certainly lacking. Rather, I write because there is a deep need, vast and cluttered with dust clouds and a few faint stars and violent storms and ocean tides and evergreen forests and cycles of the moon and heartaches and hope for life and quiet pleas for death or sleep and a real person turned away, hidden, who I can never become.
The writing will continue until I’ve purged so much need, there’ll be no more words to be said, or my end has arrived — whichever comes first.
Surely, one day this well will run dry.
If I were to suddenly die unexpectedly, no warning at all, no time to prepare; part of me today wants all of these words spread to all who knew me.
But the catch here is that I can’t care about any of it after I’m gone, so it really makes no difference either way.
Tonight I look back on my writing adventures that became an inferno over a month ago.
I guess the only thing I can do is find something else.
Maybe addition is not the answer. Good design is typically subtractive, not additive. Design my life – what needs to go?
Maybe remove something before adding something. Not enough breaths in the day.
What do I do when writing is no longer enough?
Maybe adding an alternative is not the answer.
Maybe subtraction is the way.
“The best design is subtractive”, I once heard.
In the design of my life, what could I let go?
What would bring peace in its absence?
If my name was Olivia, I’d go by Liv.
Or maybe Oliv.
But my name isn’t Olivia…
It’s not about being good enough or even “good” at all.
I never should have left the words behind.