This Is Garbage Content, But I Needed To Write
A tale as old as time. I’m in love with a beast. Just kidding. I have writer’s block. I absolutely do not know what to write about or what I want to say, though I know I have a lot to say. Writing is the singular thing that brings me unparalleled joy. It is the only thing that has safety roped down the pit of depression and pulled me up from the bottom. So why do I not know what to write?
I could write about pooping or periods or feminism or sports. I could write about love and loss and heartbreak. My personal opinion is that the best heartbreak writing is when you are in the throes of it, but often writing is the last thing I want to do when I’m heartbroken. I’m a different type of broke right now. The kind that means I have no money. Oh, and the broke that means I have no clue what to do with my life.
I could make this a confessional. I could write down my deepest secrets. Do you want to cry? Me, either.
What to write about, what to write about. What about a stream of consciousness? My roommates never clean the toilet. They also never clean the sink. I bought paper towels at the dollar store. Dollar stores are the shit. Ugh, shit reminds me of the toilet, which isn’t clean. I don’t want to clean it. But the last time I puked in there, I had to puke into a dirty toilet. That’s so much worse than puking into a clean toilet, though puking in general is not ideal. I puked because I drank too much. I usually drink too much if I drink at all, which is rarely. I’m trying not to be self-righteous anymore. I know that reality does not care about my judgment, BUT WHY CAN’T EVERYONE LIVE HOW I LIVE?
I know I need a theme to my writing. I know that there needs to be some consistency. I think I made up those rules in my own head. I don’t have an English degree. Someone said if I got an English degree, I would be bound to be broke. But here I am, broke anyway!
I do not know what to write about, but I want to write. What a predicament. There are bigger problems in the world, but this one is mine right now. The air is hot out the sliver of my window and there is a big earth out there, but I want to bang these keys and write. Maybe I should go outside.
