Prompt: Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors).
On my second day of doing this, I discover that what writing prompts prompt in me is surly irritation. What do you mean, a moment in which I felt most alive? That’s the sort of question that just bugs the crap out of me. This year was flat, flat like a slashed tire. The moments I remember I remember not because I felt most alive, whatever the hell that means, but because I was nettled by creeping anxiety and dread. Creeping anxiety feels like mud dripping down your back– there’s no sense of aliveness in that.
yeah, dripping mud - or really in my case like the monsoons in AZ, the high wind would kick up sand and the rain would turn it to mud - so slinging mud, slamming mud, howling mud, and dripping mud.
ReplyDeletemost alive? any hint of being alive was always an illusion under the pressure of intense muddy crap.
although I did from time to time have a chuckle or two reading your blog - stories about the Brittish television soaps...some sweet stuff about your kids....
ReplyDeleteI know exactly what you mean about anxiety--when I'm in the throes of it, nothing seems to have meaning.
ReplyDeletePlease always remember that you are not alone--there are people who are there for you and who know how it feels...I wish you much happiness in 2011! :)