People have told me that even when I write about “nothing”; my words come to life and convey my feelings. For the past month or so I have invested most of my time into making beaded jewellery. A few pieces came to light from poems or lines from stories that I have written. Have I missed writing? Definitely. I didn’t think I had anything in me to write about; so my notebook stayed in my yellow nylon satchel; along with some of my beaded creations. Tonight, my partner and I broke a wishbone from a chicken we had baked for Easter. It is said that the one who breaks the biggest part of the wishbone can make a wish. So I made a wish in silence. I have made wishes on shooting stars seen while camping. I have made wishes on the brightest star that I have seen in the night sky and on the first star I have seen but I have never wished on a wishbone. My wish will remain just that. A wish. A hope. One of so many. I have been denied ODSP yet again for my anxiety and depression but I am not sure if I can handle it all.
The “me” writing this is almost entirely different than the “me” you would meet face to face. In person I am awkward, nervous and jittery and it would likely be you who carries on the bulk of the conversation. I am not a wordsy person. I can be socially clumsy. The “me” here now; writing this is more at ease than the “me” you may see in a café, carrying my coffee with both hands; yet still managing to slop coffee from the cup onto the floor; thinking that everyone in the café is staring at me thinking “What a goof!”
Both “me” here and “me” not in front of my journals admit to having low self confidence.
Why do I write? Sometimes I have no idea. Sometimes; even I will read it and wonder where it came from.
My wish? I cannot say. Let’s just say I cannot wish to be the “me” here rather than the “me” grabbing a coffee to go from the café.
Some people love me either or both ways. All I know is that I love to write.
Now I have to figure out who “I” is
Joe Lethbridge April 12 2012
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