2001-06-27 - 11:39 p.m.
Ironic that the Diaryland intro page mentioned that some MTV person is interested in looking at Diaryland entries about divorce... and that the webmaster said something like"someday all diaryland journalers will be famous!"
Well- I think that's ironic because if that were the case I'm sure my husband would file for divorce! He has threatened to already simply because I journal and dare to write about him!
Divorce grounds: "journaling on diaryland so the whole world could find out about ME!!!"
Isn't that vain? To think that someone else's diary would be all about you?
Of course any diary is REALLY about the person writing it-- and everyone in their life is ancillary. But anyway, the threat of divorce thankfully was not a genuine one-- just one said in a moment of panic and fear that anyone would ever come across my journals in which I tend to write most often about those things that upset me. I write to vent my negative emotions. I rarely write when I am so busy being HAPPY and sharing that happiness with others! I write when alone-- which is not that often. I write when I choose to be alone because I am angry, or need to reflect on things. I write when I am alone though not by my own choice- and then sometimes feel lonely. (Thought that is very rare!) I do sometimes have the luxury of time to write for the fun of it! A few years ago I took a few creative writing workshops and found that even when writing creatively that all my internalized "stuff" made its way into my work. So although I THOUGHT I was writing for the fun of it-- the output ended up to be a vehicle for dealing with unresolved issues.
I read a fantstic quote - and I think by Walt Whitman, and I regret I did not write it down so I can't accurately cite it-- but he said something about how he could have written more, however he was too busy living life fully rather than watching it- or analyzing it.
My poetry now is my children,
their laughter of delight and tears of
the rhythmic routines of our days,
the morning breaks with clanging of porcelain
cereal bowls in the hands of the 6year old boy,
afternoon's ritual of complaints and whining
followed by the contrast of beautiful music
as the dramatic and pensive 7 year old girl
melodically plays violin, wishing she were doing
then the boy who longs to be like her
plays out of tune with enthusiasm and joy
wishing he never had to do anything else
Evening's hum of the washing machine
dishwasher and computer.
The ebb and flow of bathwater for the baby
full of splashes and toys that are flung
around, making lovely noise as they hit the tile
The constant ringing of the phone in the office
calling of names
seeking a helper for chores
and the general flurry of activity surrounding a
man in constant motion
of purposeful activity.
I am falling asleep as I write this-- lulled by the clicking of the keys.... itself rhythmic.