Because sometimes I feel like I’ll sit down at my laptop with nothing to say. Or maybe what I find is not enough to give. These words, I fear some days are as dry as rubble, treaded to dust. So I don’t write. I wait. They say it’ll come to you. Don’t force it. It’ll come. They call it a light bulb turning on. I guess that was the best thing they could come up with at the time. But it’s more. It’s a compulsion, sensed as a jolt of clarity with an after taste of delight. Some days it never comes.
I watch the humdrum of everyday life and veer and eavesdrop in search of that sensation. All the while the clock ticks. I’m unsure why the ticking makes me anxious. Or where the sound came from. I just wish I would have come up with it yesterday, and I hate myself for it. Even though I hadn’t touched my keys yesterday or put myself in the position to write. I was too busy in fear of writing, uninspired. I hear the reader can sense heartless writing like dogs supposedly smell fear.
I met a man today who struggled with English. He was born and bred French. The success he built in the music industry now requires him to speak English. In and out of meetings all day, he met many people who not only spoke English, but spoke American. He tripped up on meanings and stumbled on pronunciations. His mind twisted and expanded with every slang term he struggled to understand.
At 5 o’ clock in the evening, he sunk into an office chair behind me, fatigued. He told me, in English that danced off his French tongue, “I’m exhausted. Around this time, I need to sit back because I have been speaking in English all day. It can be difficult because I am still learning it. Sometimes I don’t know if I am speaking correctly. Some days I’m really good with it and others I struggle. But I know this is good for me because this is the only way I can become better. By not shying away.”
I listened to Gil Scott Heron tonight. He said he always feels like running because it’s easier to run. I answered with:
“But staying is the only way I can become better.”
I splayed out my dirt, called it soil, pressed my fingertips in its moisture and planted seeds. I’ll make it grow just by watering everyday.