It is so sad; everything is just so, so sad. Myself and everything around me. I’m drowning again. I don’t have time to be sad.
I know that in my last post, I said that I’d be back to blogging full-time again, since exams are over. So, I started writing a piece called ‘House of Cards.’ Rather than just posting any old shit, I wanted it to be a really thoughtful composition, a powerful and poignant piece, a strong return to the blogosphere, re-establishing my place as a writer. I know that you have all been waiting so patiently and so long for my posts, and many of you have expressed concern for my well-being. I wanted ‘House of Cards’ to show you that I’m back to what I do best.
It was extremely difficult for me to write in terms of the subject matter (and in terms of confidence after my severe bout of writer’s block last month). I wasn’t happy with the first draft: it lacked the je ne sais quoi that I was aiming for. So I worked on it for a few more days, editing and deleting and rewriting. It was almost ready to be published. Then something happened. I received a message which changed my life as I know it. Or rather, as I knew it. This message effectively destroyed the ‘House of Cards’ that I was building through language in my blog post. Before receiving this message, my ‘House of Cards’ piece was nostalgic, hopeful, sentimental and insightful, a preservation of all that is beautiful in love. Now, the ‘House of Cards’ post that is loitering in my drafts seems bitter, stubborn, childish, even obsessive. The innocent and treasured memory of a girl in love can be twisted into being read as the snide remark of a jealous ex-girlfriend. That will not be me. That is not me.
Perhaps I will publish ‘House of Cards’ when the time is right. But that time is not now.
I don’t have time to be sad.