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Reborn

Daily Post, January 2nd 2014:
When you look back at your blog on January 2, 2015, what would you like to see?

There has been a lot of talk about writing more. In the last few years, I have gotten frustrated with myself because the writing seems to come to a complete halt for a few months at a time. I’d give up, move on to something a little more shiny, then forget I was even writing in the first place.

What happens when I don’t write regularly? I get antsy, frenetic, and combustible. Can a frenetic being be combustible? Am I being redundant? That’s what happens when I don’t write. I lose my focus and forget what words mean. That is very serious.

By January 2nd, 2015, I hope to have a combination of 156 blog posts. That means each blog of mine needs to be posted in once a week. Guess what? I’ve challenged myself to write a blog post every single day of January. I never promised I’d write a post in every blog every day of January. Ninety-three posts? Yikes. No thank you! With the 156 posts, I am allowing myself to not beat myself up if I miss a week.

Apart from frequency, I hope to see more viewership and subscribers. But, I think that goes for most bloggers. Many of us are writing to have our voices heard. Some readers might not like what we have to say and that is allowed. Humanity would be really boring if we all felt and thought exactly the same way. To boost viewership, I think I am going to start YouTubing. Depending on the response I get, I may do one vlog a month. If I manage to entertain enough people, I may vlog once a week later in the year.

Lastly, I am going to actually start writing about concerts I go to, books a read, and movies I have enjoyed seeing. That was the original purpose of my blogging, so why not get down to business? And, I plan on actually having some vacation time this year. I deserve it. I have been working hard at school while trying to not let work in a retail environment get me too wired. I want to be able to sit outside and look out at a lake or the ocean with a cup of tea, a book, and a pen & some paper. I would love to be still for awhile… Still…

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New Habits

Every year, I always tell myself I am going to write more. Somehow I seem to fall short a few months into the year. This year, 2014, I feel it is going to be different. Now I have three blogs going and am back in school, I have more passion in my life. The environment I have chosen to be in cultivates the habit of writing and learning and general curiosity.

On a friend’s Facebook page, she mentioned a site called 750 Words. I wish I had heard about it two days sooner! The premise of the site is that you are to write at least 750 words a day. No one (but the site admin, I assume) has access to what you write, so you can write whatever you want. Some people use it to help with their writing skills, others use it as a therapeutic tool, and some use it to get their creative juices flowing. I am so grateful to have found this site! Within half an hour of signing up, I was able to write almost twelve hundred words (I’m not a fast typer, I just have a lot to say).

For any of you who are creative in any way, please use this tool! It is a great way to help break up any blockage you may be experiencing!

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Anxious Playback

She scraped the ladle against the side of the deep set pot of soup. “I’m glad she’s eating,” I thought to myself, “but my god, I wish she’d stop with the metal against metal.” Each ding and scrape, my blood surged and crept a degree higher until the moment she dropped the ladle back into the pot and sealed it with the lid.

“Right, I need to go for a run,” I told myself, “Now.”

I strapped on my neon blue running shoes, grabbed my iPod, and snuck out the side door. For the first mile, I walked faster than usual and had a conversation with myself. I’m not lonely, not schizophrenic. The metal on metal just made my spine hurt and I was hanging from an anxious, thorny branch. Someone needed to talk me down and I am the only one who knows how.

As I turned into the school grounds, I slipped my earphones in. The sound of my own painfully anxious thoughts were subsiding and I was ready to hear something pleasant. Portishead’s self titled album made the cut. “It’s so jarring,” someone once said when I played it for them. Not to me, never.

While I escaped into the sound of the greatest trip-hop album ever made, I ran. I ran the perimeter of the high school. The bleachers were calling my name and I managed a few. Then, I began to run around the track. Fifty minutes later, I had run the entire length of the album, so I stopped. In silence, I stood on the cushiony track and stared at the new scoreboard some generous alumnus donated. My breathing was steady and hard. The crisp winter air made my sweat prickle against my forehead. My lips curled up in a smile and I began to laugh the way I did when I was young. The loud, full bodied laughter filled the air and echoed off any surface it could find. The metal against metal, the self conversation, the Portishead, and the silence, they lead me down a happy path. I was happy… And I knew it, and I clapped my hands.

[By Ellie McHale, Inspired by Daily Prompt]

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