I am disgusting at myself. Yes, I am right now. I'm disgusting at myself not because I have a body odor, no sir, I don't. I take a shower everyday, and I scrub my body with home-made body scrub made of rice, dried rose petal and nipple-lemon juice. And after I rinse, I lather myself from neck to toes with glycerin sandalwood scented soap twice. Pamper myself in a shower is a luxury I can afford......for now.
I am disgusting at myself not because I live in a filthy apartment. I wash and rinse all my dishes after I eat my meal. I wipe and clean the stove after I cook. I mop the kitchen floor everyweek. I water my plants every other day. I scrub my bathtub every week. And I organize everincreasing library in my living room, even though I leave my book thoughout my apartment. Under the sofa, under the bed, in the bathroom, on the refrigerator, under my sewing table, behind the tv, I leave my book everywhere I land my behind.
I am disgusting at myself because I couldn't make myself sit at least two hours a day to write at least a thousand words day. I find all the excuses I can think off not to write. In the middle of the sentence. Earlier this evening, in the middle of the sentence, I put on my running shoes and went out running on the beach. While I was running, I had this 'masterpeice' idea what to write when I get home.
I sprinted to the end of the beach so I could go home and put my thought on the paper.
When I got home, the Simpsons was on. So, I sat and watched Homer and his son wrecking up something as usual. Simpsons was over and I grabbed Vertigo and read the last three chapters. Vertigo. Vertigo has been hypnotized me since I started it 36 hours ago. Eventhough I was not sexually active or partying like the author, but I was angry like hell in my teen, just like her. I was a loner and I found comfort and solitude in books like she did.
Long after I finished the book, I couldn't help wondering about my angry teen years. I wondered why didn't any of the teachers during my elementary school years ever made an effort to tell me how good I was at writing. They never failed to scribble in red ink an A+ in all my compositions and essays, but none of them ever told me, ever motivated me to keep writing. None of them ever asked me what was I reading when I sat quietly at my desk reading my latest book, when everybody else in the class was doing something elset whenever we had a "freesubject'.
Why oh..why You put the idea in my head that I can wrie. And now when I don't write I feel like I am floating in a pool. I could feel my feet touching the bottom of the lake but I don't want to stop and put my feet down. I want to keep swimming toward the water fall. The water from the rocks above spray on my face, the gentle sound of the water spread the wings on the face of the lake. And I keep swimming toward the water jumping in slomo into a pool below.
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