Kingdom of Rain
It's fun to watch someone go through a major crisis, even if it's self-inflicted. Puts things into perspective.
Some thoughts I had last night while listening to the rain bounce off my roof:
Ii have spent each day the past few weeks just inches from tears.
it's a lot of things: fear and uncertainty about the quality of my book being the biggest, having the sit there and take it while some Rich Fucking Asshole treated me like I was a little kid, stupid computer problems, anne's ex-husband bullshit, and finally the blog trolls (who I really should have just called assholes, because that's what they are) and emailers.
Alone, I can deal with any of those things, but together . . . well, it's just too much to deal with.
But the uncertainty about this book is killing me. I thought I had something really good, and shared it with a few people. Most of them told me it was really good, and gave some constructive feedback. A few of them absolutely ripped it to shreds, and gave me some constructive feedback. The result? I found myself unsure about everything. Unable to trust my instincts. I rewrote major parts to please others, instead of myself, and it left me paralyzed. I've since decided to just let it go. I'll finish some grammatical and spelling corrections, complete a few tiny changes where I want to add more information, and publish the damn thing.
I'm scared. I'm scared that it's not as good as I thought. I'm scared that it's better than I thought.
My mom told me that I was in the middle of "vast uncharted territory" and that it was okay to be afraid. I'm not so sure.
I shouldn't have posted my "I'm leaving, here's why, okay now I'm back but I'm really leaving and I hate you" post. What I should have said is, "I'm overwhelmed with several things in my life, and writing for WWDN isn't bringing me any joy right now. As a matter of fact, it's sort of a chore, so I'm taking some time off." What I posted gives way too much power and importance to a very small group of people who I should really just feel sorry for.
Note to self: don't post when emotional.
And you know what else? I am profoundly upset about war, dreams of war, and the Bush Junta. Patriot II? How the fuck did this happen? How did we, as a culture, sit back and put these people in charge?
And these "Terror alerts?" Does anyone believe them? Did you guys read about the "suspected terrorist" in SF Bay? Some tug boat captain suggests that he saw someone in an unlit Zodiac raft at 3AM, wearing a wetsuit. That's it.
The CG looked everywhere for this boat and its alleged terrorist, and found NOTHING.
But it's all over the news, because WE ARE ON ALERT!!1!!11!
What happened to critical thinking? Are the American people so soporific that they can't see this bullshit for what it is?
And now we're supposed to believe that Osama Bin Laden is JOINING FORCES WITH SADDAM?
The timing on this is all too pat for me, and I wonder where the fuck the critical voices are who should be questioning this stuff. Where are the other voices in this vast wilderness? Isn't anyone willing to speak up?
We are marching directly into a war, though there is massive public resistance to it.
We are marching directly into a war, and the media, the supposed 4th estate, isn't doing ANYTHING to keep people informed -- they're just propagandizing for the Bush Junta.
We are marching directly into a war, though the rest of the world wishes we'd just mind our ouw stinking business.
And nobody seems to care. And I'm "anti-American" because I feel this way.
I was picking up some tools at OSH about an hour ago, and helped an older woman take some plastic boxes down from a tall shelf. When I put them in her cart for her, she moved a bunch of duct tape and plastic sheeting out of the way. She told me how scared she was, and urged me to be prepared and safe.
That's perfect. This woman, who could be doing several other things today, is preparing for a terrorist attack, right here in Pasadena. Because she's afraid. Just like the Bush Junta wants us all to be.
Ugh. Note to self: don't post when emotional.