A rose painted blood-red stands bravely in the sun. Its sweet scent infects my lungs and prickles my fingertips, painting them red. Isn’t it funny how something so beautiful can come with so many struggles?
Writing is a subject I immensely enjoy when given enough creative freedom. It’s my safe escape from this reality to another one all through words. Words that could come easy or hard, depending on present moods and events. Staying on-topic or focusing only on my writing can prove to be difficult when I’m distracted or facing writer’s block.
Clarity-
The prompt involves a grain of sand. Well, sand involves the ocean so I’ll add a paragraph about that. Hmm, the ocean has deep blue waves which is a beautiful mental image, let me expand on that. And perhaps I should add a transparency analogy as well. Isn’t the human body made of 60% water or so...? We are one with the ocean. We are the ocean! If humans are the ocean then the birds are the humans, right? Amazing, I’ll talk about that too- wait.
How in the world did I end up here?!
I can shamelessly admit that sticking to a prompt or topic can be unnecessarily difficult for me. Despite how many times I read the instructions, I’ll often end up on a neverending tangent.
Not to mention, I struggle with being clear and concise even when I am using the prompt correctly. My brief answer to a close-ended question could accidentally become five pages.
I try my best to set limits or plan the word count for each paragraph, but I’m not quite there yet.
Focus-
Finally, half an hour to write whatever I please! Everything’s set I just need to- ah. I’m hungry, let me grab a snack real quick. And take a brief shower. Alright, I’m back time to- is that the lawnmower? Seriously, who chooses to mow outside at 8 pm? Whatever, I’ll just wait a few more minutes. I can’t write, my neighbors are screeching and my music isn’t blocking them out! How many minutes do I even have left?
32 seconds?!
Too many times do I wait for the “right time” to write. Spoilers: that time will never come. I have acknowledged my terrible habit of delaying the hobby, but I have yet to correct it. Tuning out the slightest noise hasn’t been helping and sometimes can be another distraction in itself. But I’ve realized that just writing whatever comes to mind and cleaning it up later can help push me out of that dreadfully muddy feeling.
For just like a rose, writing has its thorns. But thorns can be easily removed, just as scars can heal with time. Hopefully, with both practice and grit, I’ll be able to overcome these writing struggles and discover more about myself in the process.
댓글