Instead of studying because I am in college and making positive life choices.
My Dad works for the DEA. He has a shirt that says “if you cook it, we will come”. I like that shirt. Maybe I’ll like this documentary. If you can’t see a correlation between those two seemingly random thoughts then I can’t help you.
I am terrified to look at them ever again. Last semester I took a writing class and I would usually attempt to finish stories all at once because it meant that I wouldn’t have to see what I’d done. Lots of times I would send the stories on for others to edit because I couldn’t bear to look at them any more.
My Dad drove my car for part of the trip back to school. I was sitting in the passenger’s seat, watching clouds and trees and blurs of color pass by when a story hit me so suddenly that I couldn’t do anything but dig around in my dashboard until I could find a scrap of paper big enough to get the whole idea down.
I wrote and wrote until I was fully convinced that I wouldn’t forget a single detail I wanted to include. It took a long time, and normally I would get carsick but this time I didn’t, which I took as a good omen that this idea was just busting to breathe on its own as a full story. When I got to school I started it. Then work happened and class happened, and I’m sure the story is starting to feel neglected, so I decided I should give it a look today.
Only all I have open right now is a blank document, because I’m afraid that the second I open it and accidentally stumble across a weak paragraph I’ll hate it. And the story, the one I wanted so desperately, the one that has been knocking around in my head begging me to please come back will be gone, just as quickly as it got here.
Does anyone else ever feel like this?