Sunday, May 31, 2009

It happened. As I feared it would. I started writing out the post on my nifty version of associative thinking. It's like oatmeal people, it's better hot. I let it get cold. And while it held together well, it wasn't smooth. There was an internal dialogue between my whiner self and the bitch (another part of myself, I have many, we will all be well acquainted one day, promise). It was fairly awesome -you have no idea how hard it is for me to be conceited in this regard, but I figure if you fake confidence long enough it becomes natural- but it was the only portion of the whole thing I was impressed with and out of context it was useless. So, to the back burner it has been relegated, one day I may revisit it.

I have discovered a nasty little side effect of blogging. I feel obligated to post often. There are two reasons for this, 1)because I promised myself I would and if you can't keep a promise to yourself...yadda yadda and 2) because I wouldn't want to disappoint the people who read my blog. I started this blog so that I could flex my writer's muscle, which is more or less working, some days are better than others. I told a few people I know whose opinions I trust and asked them to read and give me feedback. Aside from incessantly harassing those whose opinions are most important, I also find my self obsessively hoping someone I don't know has commented . I view my own profile regularly to see how many visits I have had. I mention this only because I read a post this evening by a blogger I have kind of, sort of been following because I am impressed by her writing and she mentioned behaving in the same manner. I guess what I am trying to say is it's nice to know there are other bloggers who have the same need for validation, even those who have been at this longer. I don't feel quite as lame anymore. Aaaaand that's enough sharing.

Just in case you didn't come here tonight for Confessions with Eyvi, I will leave you with a poem I have written. First poem in a long time. Be gentle.

My Mind Mirrors The Aging Season

My thoughts, heavy and grey.
Dark, dreary, always falling.
I become introspective, fold in
Wrap myself in my imagination
My selfishness.
Reality is an intruder
A fact I cannot escape.
I dream and sleep becomes my salvation.
Like a drug that promises,
But only masks.
And it becomes harder.
Harder to face my unwelcomed guest,
To make my clean escape.
And I hate it, slumber and waking.
For false promises of freedom
For reminders of chains, anchors.
I embrace the anchors, the reminders
And find strength at the bottom of this body of water,
That caresses me, tempts me.
But there is always light behind the clouds.
And I hold my anchor, cling to it.
Praying the clouds in my mind, above the water,
Part before I have to draw breath again.


  1. Eyvi,

    Sometimes, when in the mood to do so, I will click the links that lead to various blogs written by Pajibans and tonight I found yours.
    Having read the last few entries and the beautiful poem, I can say that while you may want the valdation others can provide you certainly don't need it. You have a gift for writing and I sincerely hope that you keep at it for a good long time.
    I've added your blog to my favorites list and will be recommending it to my friends.
    Great work and best of luck,


  2. Spender,

    Thank you so much for your words of encouragement. Hard as I try to convince myself otherwise, the occasional positive nudge does the soul good.


  3. See??? I told you so... but you didn't believe me, did you???