I’m hesitant about this. Freewriting once more after what, a year of inactivity?
I’ve been doing a lot of “living”. A lot of “adulting”. To be frank, the creativity in me has died down because so much has changed internally.
I find myself with writer’s block for the first time, ever? Usually, I have something to say. Share. Expose. Lyrically or emotionally and what not.
Today I find myself with a loss of word play. I think it’s because my identity is no longer a priority and I’ve shifted into a new direction. This martyr survival mode persona is gone. She’s at peace most of the time.
Don’t get me wrong. I still go through the motions. I feel most things intensely, but I’ve learned to keep it at a mid-level interjection. I’m learning to regulate. I think I’ve severely broken enough times to willingly not fall into a pit of despair again.
So, when I sit down and write for this album I’m working on… total blank. Who am I now? Where are all these sob stories I was so keen to writing about?
Maybe I’ll do some happy songs. Ew.
I’m not that either.
What now? If writers block is the most challenging thing I’m currently facing, I’ve made it. I think about how ugly the world is right now. Did you know it has always been this way? We just have access to see it in real time now.
We absorb it and pick a side. How sad is that? Why do we feel the need to corner ourselves into someone else’s idea so that we may belong or win?
Here comes an unpopular belief. As much as we would like to believe we are our own person with unique opinions, we aren’t. We are easily swayed and manipulated into borrowed ideologies. And so the pattern of mistakes are created time and time again.
We don’t know how to listen. We don’t pause before we react or speak up. We lead with fear and mistrust. With reason sure. You have men in power reliving the Spanish inquisition like it’s the norm.
We accept it because we are too distracted and comfortable in our tiny homes. Plus, what can we do? If this has been happening for hundreds of years, what can one person do?
So, we divide ourselves more and more into these groups to the point of spreading hate and violence. Only for the cycle to continue decades at a time. So, we can tell ourselves. See! This is why I need a gun. This is why I am right. This is why I must protect x y and z. This is why ME ME ME.
I think I’m finally over it. Trying to convince each other that we can live in a world free from violence and hate. We didn’t lose hope. We never had it to begin with. The only way to create it is within us. But we are too scared of each other to start.
We don’t know how to value ourselves simply for being human. Not based on where you came from or what you own.
Exhibit A: I can say that I am a proud native Indian, 51% to be exact. I was born in the oh so grand U.S. and am a proud American. I’m proud of the tacos I eat and the traditional feathers my ancestors wore. I love the safety and freedom I have. I’ve worked hard to be this independent and I don’t take it for granted.
Guess what? It’s not my identity. Who cares? Should you treat me differently because? No. No one cares. I treat people the way I’d like to be treated. With kindness and love. For those who hate or are afraid and pour insecurities onto me, yes, I set boundaries. But that’s it. Again. Who cares?
This is not denouncing racism and discrimination by no means. It clearly exists. But until we learn to listen and share. We might need to go back to kindergarten to re learn that minor detail: sharing is caring. And what’s the other one? Love thy neighbor. For the religious folk.
Maybe we should start practicing what we preach to our children so much. Maybe that’s the solution to discrimination? Wild no?
Well, you look at that! Guess I had something to write about after all.
M.
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