I have this black book... no no no, not a little black book, not a little black book full of booty calls and conquests, if one of those ever existed it would be long gone by now.
I have this black book. It's big and covered in canvas and made for drawing, sketching really.
Now let me tell you, while I fancy myself an artist after a fashion I can't exactly draw. At all. Unless you like uneven stick figures or abstract cats. Or big loopy swirling waves. Give me my laptop and photoshop and a good mouse and I can come up with something... but in my black book, I write.
When I'm writing I hate lines on the paper. There is no other way to put it, I hate them. They feel restrictive. Confining. Unwelcoming. I can not write between them.
Thus the big black book.
I've had many of them over the years. Many many. They litter the shelves and bins of my little office, they are tucked away in storage. Some have been lost, some forgotten, but I've always had a black book to write in.
Now I do most of my writing right here. (Or over there, at that table). I sit with my trusty laptop and write until the writing is done.
Blah blah blah. Blah blah. Blah.
See? I wrote that.
But in my black book... well you all haven't seen the places those black books go. Some of them are filled with dark prose and poetry.
My poetry, it is always so dark. Why is that? Others have managed to light the corners of the world with their words. Mine seem to put out street lights.
Except for the ones about K. But I'm pretty sure they just suck.
There are stories of my life I wouldn't share with you. They aren't so bad, they just aren't for writing here. There are tales of Mr. Kaos that would make you laugh. There are tales of K that would make you cry. There are things there that make me cry.
There are things that make me realize how human I am. How human we all are.
All sealed away in that black book.
I just started a new black book. I wrote the first anecdote, tale, drama, what have you, within it's pages.
What I am wondering is what is the catch. Where is the filter. What is it that keeps me from writing some things here. Why can I only write them there?
Do you have a catch?
Thursday, June 07, 2007
black books...
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9 comments:
good post. I think everyone should have a black book. I do have a 'catch'. Things I just can't seem to write about for public consumption. Things similar to yours. If something like that is really troubling me, I write about it, (lines don't bother me, so I use regular paper) and I actually either shred, or burn what I wrote, when I'm ready.
I seriously hope that somewhere someone is paying you for your writing. If not get your ass out there and start pimping yourself gurl!
You probably don't write that stuff here because you heard I look for blackmail material. Or someone else.
I used to write stuff down, a diary of sorts even interlaced with poetic thought. I quit that after I found out certain family members violated my private writings - and if that wasn't bad enough - they tried to psychoanalyze every single strange thing i had to say in my poetry - making it mean things.., that were not only off but way, way, way off.
They spread so much twisted gossip its a wonder I wasn't committed or locked away for the safety of all humanity. It was just crazy. Anywho I destroyed all my writings and vowed never to keep such anythings. I have a hard time trusting people.
The true shame of it is, much history has been lost. Since my so called accident (costing me memory) while I got much of my memories back - there are still gaps - kinda like swiss cheese. Those journals could have possibly helped bring me up to speed.
Uhm - Where'd the health did that rambling come from? Sorry. Still angry about that I guess. Anyways - You don't have rogue relations who disrespect you like that.., and I for one would like to rogue your - I mean respect your books. ;-)
I think you share what you are comfortable with. For you, your deepest pieces are yours....and that's ok.
While I am sure that we all would love to see some hidden parts, I love what you do share.
I have a black book as well, that was unfortunately given to me by a past partner (which, equally unfortunately, I have several of at this point in my life). So, as much as I would love to write in it, opening it up always gives me an odd feeling. You'd think I'd get another book... but no... for some reason I feel like I have to finish the one I have. Unfortunately, it is very large and I've only written on a few pages.
So, when are you going to blog some poetry here? Now that your blog isn't poetic on its own.
I love to blog; I have a lot of fun with it, but the computer lacks something. The book . . . stroking the cover, turning it in your hand, clean white pages. It's a different world. That mindset affects what I write and where.
Love this post!
I decided when I first started blogging that I wouldn't post about my dh and our relationship in any great detail. There have been moments when I've crossed that line, but they're pretty rare (other than the things that are positive, that is). If we have a fight, or I'm pissed at him, that gets into my 'black book,' not on my blog.
I think it is about withdrawal. I try not to put anything here that I will feel compelled to take back. I try not to say anything about K that would embarrass her, and as far as Mr. Kaos goes, he’s pretty easygoing about what I say. There are few things that are off limits with him. Though he admits that if I were to ever write a book for publication and someone actually paid to read it, I could say whatever I wanted to about him. Make stuff up? Sure. He tried to overthrow the secret super hero headquarters of the world. Yes he did.
But looking back at all my posts it is really my snarky side that gets the most play here. Nothing is too serious for too long and that is an easy thing to hide behind. It is safe.
Mielikki: I had a burning session back in November but the things I burned were pretty unimportant. I like to keep what I put out there.
LL: Shameful indeed. In the last year or so it has been pressing on me and I intend to make a go at it, Mr. Kaos has been almost painfully supportive so I really have no excuse but fear & loathing… err… laziness...
Daveman: That truly sickens me, to have that kind of trust betrayed is… well it is beyond words. I understand what it is like to have people think something is wrong with you because of your writings, but mine was my own doing. I turned in pieces at school that won awards and then landed me in counseling.
Flutter: It’s that comfort thing. I love being comfortable but it isn’t always what is best. I think I’m going to start working out of that a bit.
Chad: Go to the last page honey, write “the end” and buy a new one. Or you can have one of mine. The last one I bought was in a two pack. As for my poetry… well as I said to Flutter comfort is an issue I am trying to work out of a little. I am thinking about choosing one day a week (probably Sunday) to post a piece of honest to goodness poetry or prose. So I warn you all now, you might want to skip that day :)
MZ: Yes, there is something so perfect about touching that cover…
LM: I don’t think I have ever written here about a fight with Mr. Kaos. I wrote once about a misunderstanding we were having, a difference of opinion that I thought was largely cultural… but I did so with his full approval. My marriage is a happy and wonderful thing, but every relationship has it’s ups and downs, quirks, insanities… I would hate it if Mr. Kaos let the world know every time I did something neurotic, he’d be talking about it all the time. I think I work more to protect his privacy, and K’s, than my own. I remember when I first started reading I saw a post where a wife really spread some shit about her husband and all I could think was how she could never take that back, what she said was pretty unforgivable. That was a lesson I took to heart.
This is the longest comment I have ever written.
Everyone has their limits, I would think. Or hope. I have no clue what mine are, but there are some.
I am not a poetry person. I really don't enjoy it. Of course I will read yours, though. And then make fun of you. :)
Aw, me loves me CK.
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