blindgirldreaming

     My life unfolds in a small room: 1 desk and chair by the door 1 window 1 cot-like bed 1 bookshelf 1 fan 1 closet This room is my prison. It makes me  a lethargic  caged  animal,  like the lion at the zoo who just sleeps  stretched out in the sun. It stifles  my desire to scream  and knock down  one of the walls.  It turns my rage to despondent tears. It turns my snark  to soft meekness  that wraps itself in sleep for self-preservation till soon I stop using all my room’s small space and just curl up on my bed. And soon this cell becomes a haven  against the scary sprawling world too big for a tired mind like mine  to navigate. It gives me rest when I am weary. It hides my tears from prying eyes. It lets me think my thoughts uninterrupted. I’m the queen  of this place.  It’s mine to use  as I see fit. Nothing can be lost, and I cannot be lost in spa...

This is the first end of summer since seventh grade that I will not be starting school. As I write this, Davidson’s first day of classes started last Thursday. The day before that, my brothers and sister woke up early to start their first day back. All that day I felt strange and a little melancholic. I feel like I should be starting school too. The summer’s over. It’s time to wake up early and get ready for long days of work. It’s time to have a fixed schedule and a plan and be stressed out and counting down the next days till break. It’s time for classes or Zoom meetings or something. But none of those normal things that I’ve gotten so used to are happening right now.  I spent the month of June agonizing over my decision, but finally decided to take a leave of absence from school this fall. It’s not just that I won’t be on campus. I’m not enrolled in classes at all. I never thought I would be pressing the pause button halfway through college, but here we are.  Why did I ...

The Pain of Writing Maybe I should just start by saying it’s taken me weeks to write this blog post. Before I could make myself sit down and write, I had to shove aside all the clutter in my mind and tune out the chaos of my house. That proved and is proving to be an ongoing struggle. I’ve been experiencing an incredible lack of focus these past few months, and I don’t think I’m the only one. That’s part of the reason for this blog. I need to write instead of letting thoughts tumble endlessly in my head until they rob me of sleep and make me feel sad and stuck. But I also need accountability and direction. I don’t create when I don’t feel a sense of urgency. This is partly because I’m lazy and partly because I have a gift for stopping literary endeavors before I even get started.  This is what happens. I sit down with my open laptop, excited to start writing. Then I pause. I could write about literally anything. What should I pick? Then...