sometimes words feel like chains.
like if i write the things down, if i write of certain triumphs and butterflies and plans, then i'll be capturing them, caging them.
i am afraid of jinxing it. i'm afraid of writing it out of existence.
right now i feel like i am in this place. no matter what i write, the words feel wrong, feel like bombs instead of births.
blog posts, plays, journal entries.
words feel like adult teeth and i feel like the dentist trying to pull them out to make room in a small mouth. (that may be a weird metaphor...but i speak from sorta personal experience...in that i've had perm--this isn't important, is it?)
point is...i've been having trouble writing lately. been staring at blank documents and then out the window for relief. i've been wanting to live in my own head when alone and in the words of others when i'm not.
i tend to get this way when i look around and realize that i'm happy. i'm content. i like the word content more than happy, but honestly i feel both right now so...happy-content, i am. i feel like this moment in time will be one that i look back on and think, oh shit, that was a good fucking time.
when i am happy, when i can feel contentedness as a palpable entity, i want to keep that happiness/contentedness close. i want the words i use to be from my mouth and to get lost in the molecules and fly up to the stars where they can't be heard. i don't want to write the happiness down, edit it down, make it poetic with a hint of self-awareness.
maybe it is because i don't have the words. it is like trying to describe the beauty of the sun setting over a body of water. i want to show it to you. i want my words to show you. to say, here, see? can you feel it? can you feel how i feel? i take a picture to show you, but even that is not the same. the only word i have is beautiful. that sunset is beautiful i say. it was beautiful. then again so is the sun when its 3pm in the summer, and so is the moon when it is only a sliver but the beauty feels different. the words i'd use to describe them are different. one fills me with wonder and mystery, another fills me with calm and love. both make me want to hold the ones i love a little closer as we look up.
even those words aren't right.
i can tell you i nearly cried when talking about life with a friend. not sad crying. overwhelmed by gratitude crying. life is this crazy amazing thing crying. can you believe how everything has changed crying. everything still feels up in the air and yet grounded crying.
maybe that explains it...?
there are words i can use. they aren't the whole story. they don't really let you in on how i've been feeling, the swirl of emotions i feel going through my body these days...love. pride. joy. fear. anxiety. calm...but there are some words:
life right now is good.*
they aren't the right ones, but they do the job. at least now.
at least while i am keeping the words close.
(* - life would be better if, like, the world didn't feel like it was in chaos and if i wasn't scared about the election and if i ate more vegetables and if my left leg wasn't freaking out and if i had less stuff in my apartment and if it wasn't 90 degrees and if i could actually write plays instead of just thinking about writing plays and if grad school didn't start up again in a month...but let's ignore all that)