Tomorrow's Feelings Inside

I keep looking at YouTube videos from old and new times. I look up what happened to some of those old YouTubers. I get emotional. A feeling a surge goes through me. A feeling to do something. To create. But then it's tamped down by another feeling. This one causes a feeling inside I can only explain as a fullness. A light that glows like a smoldering ember--but not one that is about to catch fire--one that is dimming.

 

I panic. I blow on that ember, perhaps to get it going once again. But something inside knows it's going out. I can make new embers. I can create stuff. But then I think of my writing. Those novels I've been "working on" for all these years. I'd get to it, sure, when the "time was right." It just wasn't quite right at that moment, you know? The idea is there, I just need to be in the "perfect moment". And I remember those times, and I know those feelings are happening again as I watch the screen. I sit there and zone out. I laugh at some of the content I am watching. I remember old times and that fullness grows more. And I know that if I don't turn away and just relax it may turn into a full-blown anxiety attack. I can't have that again.

 

I've taken a swipe at the YouTube thing. I have ideas. I used to just jump in. But now I am too busy, or I don't have the lines or ideas written out. Oh please!

 

More excuses.

 

But no. I WILL do these things.

 

Then I think about teaching my daughter how to draw. I'm decent at it. And I say, well, I'm tired today, I'll do it tomorrow. And tomorrow comes. And goes. And I think back, oh wait, I didn't do that! And then I say I'll do it the next day. And the same thing happens as with the writing and the YouTube videos.

 

And I look back and think about all that wasted time. One day I'll look back and it may be too late. I'll be old. Wasted time thinking about what could have been when I could have just done it.

 

But I will. I'm writing this, right? But these are just mind rants. Nothing really. Worthless thoughts thrown out to the world that are mostly passed over by eyes looking for something else. But it's under the guise of you writing thoughts and ideas, you writing more for yourself, right?

 

Oh, that's right. Lame.

 

But you must have something. And I guess that's as authentic as possible. I mean, that's not exactly a falsehood.

 

Then I think. Well, it's still something. And I've had stories published. Even if not in big-time places. And I have made videos and know how to edit. It's possible.

 

And I'm not those people on the screen, or written page. I'm me. And the more the days go by I see what my premise, my hook, my angle is.

Me. 

 

The energy comes back. The ember grows. Lights. But it's getting cold again. And I'm all out of breath to blow on the ember to help it grow. Too tired. Maybe I'll just take a break, gather some air. 

 

There'll be next time. Tomorrow. I was working today. Twelve-hour shifts. I'm tired. I'll get to it tomorrow.

 

Yeah. Tomorrow.

 

WCM