I’m in an odds ‘n’ ends — emphasis on odd(s) 😉 — mood.
Not the Right / Write Stuff
Nothin’ like being invisible amongst your brethren.
There’s an informal writing group that gathers at a cafe Sunday mornings. I wish I liked the facilitator C. but I don’t. From the get-go, she’s been unfriendly, cold and cliquish. I’m completely invisible in her presence. She’d likely give me the time of day if I asked but no more. Meanwhile, she’s chatty and engaging with her buddies (including Chris, whom I also don’t like, find him off-putting, arrogant and uninterested in others).
It’s not a matter of familiarity breeds friendliness with her. She’s just a cold fish who warms up (as much as a cold fish can) to only those in her clique.
I recoil from cliques, which are inherently female in nature. Perhaps you’ve noticed that men don’t form cliques. Cliques are hurtful and mean and by their innate exclusivity judgmental and isolating. My loner nature is not perturbed by being on the outside of anything. I simply don’t relate to female cliques. Never have. Even as a small child, I stood on the outside looking in. And then I looked the other way going “whatever.” 😀 That’s that.
Anyhow, point is that I’d love to find a writers’ group in Prescott that is sisterly / brotherly, not cliquey. Odds are I’ll need to start one myself. A writing group — the RIGHT writing group — would do me a lot of good. Give me a place to express that I don’t have, to network and be amongst my brethren because the group with C. ain’t it. (p.s. the cliquishness extends to other group members, not only her.)
d … o … w … n
I’ve been under the giant thumb of that deadly beast named Depression recently. A complex topic to be sure that I’d dare not even attempt to explore in a blog post! Loneliness, isolation, boredom, sadness, grief, anger, pain … they all play a part. I wish I had a way to release the few key players once and for all. Wish I knew what that way is.
Self-expression is so hard for me when pressed and oppressed and suppressed under the Depression’s beastly weight. Though I’m not gifted or particularly skilled at artistic renderings in images (i.e., drawing), I’m very visual.
The beast of Depression appears in my visual eye / imagination as in parts dragon and amphibious monster thick gray and watery … a bloated and swollen lifeless monster who hangs languishing in the deepest darkest unseen and frigid sea floor … never ever seen by human eye, never and it is for that reason that the sea monster was born …
bloated gray sea monster = unseen
and the dragon thin wiry angry pissed off REALLY pissed off at many things the world the parents people fucking people circumstances outside her choice and/or control being born not being seen by anyone from infancy raging raging raging at the UNFAIRNESS of life at bad people winning and good people losing at the stupidity of people at having to be back here on earth at all hating hating hating that karma brings her back forces her back hating all the morons who populate the planet and not being able to do a DAMN thing about it being powerless and inept at fixing stupidity and everything else that ails the planet.
feeling wholly all suffering
and from that pain: anger and rage.
the wiry thin intelligent smart aware dragon: the pain of the world borne by the dragon.
gray amphibian in the deepest darkest under waters: unseen
wiry thin smart fiery dragon: the world’s suffering
… and that is how the beast of Depression appears. got no more to say for now.