"And then while I'm away, I'll write home everyday, and I'll send all my loving to you"
I cannot write in London: FACT.
There is something about being back home that makes it so much easier to write here. Perhaps it's the fact that it's so quiet and I'm back out in the "country" without any distractions whatsoever. Perhaps it's my strange sleeping pattern that wakes me up well before the sun rises, and I stay up well into the evening with a continuous urge to write. I feel like I want to stand up with my laptop at my feet and shake all of the words off of me and into Bridget. It's always there, this feeling, this very familiar feeling that I have been missing so much in London. I just want to take my Writing Feeling, pick it up, stroke it like a cat, kiss it and whisper in its ear how I've missed it so much.
My story, this "novel" that I was supposed to be working on for the past three months at uni, has been at a complete standstill until now. When I locked myself in my room and tried to force the words out of my fingertips, I'd read back every word and part of me would cringe at the computer screen.
"WHY DID I WRITE THAT?!" I'd scream at myself and then punch myself in the face, because only a loser, shit writer would ever write that ridiculous piece of shit.
But here, at home....things are different. I haven't even been back a week, and already my fingers are taking to the keyboard with a vengeance, and want to make up for so much lost time. I don't bother distracting myself with re-reading over what I wrote, distracting myself with the whole editing process. No. I just write and write, endless paragraphs that probably have a million mistakes, but I needed to get the words out of my system otherwise I might explode.
Oh, it's good to be back.
My story, this novel that is required for me to pass my third year at university, is autobiographical. I won't lie. I can only write about what I know, and what I know is that I've just been through a three year personality transformation and I want to talk about it. Yeah, not everything will be exactly the same (because, good lord, I like to think I'm a lot more creative than that), but those who know me, that know everything, will know the specifics of the story.
When I was in London, though, I couldn't write it, because...well...it's set in London. I'm pretty much still living the story, so to speak, and things change, things are always changing, and after I wrote something, I'd have to change it to incorporate something else, something new, something different, and then that would go on to fuck up the rest of the story. I couldn't focus and I was so frustrated at one point that I wanted to scrap the entire thing and write some kind of stupid story about a girl and her dog.
But at home, I'm away from it all. I'm away from the whole mess of things and have such a clearer picture of everything. I can take more of an "outsider's perspective" on things and write about the girl that used to live over there. I can separate the two people and not get stressed about things changing all of a sudden, because I no longer live there. It's so much easier that way.
So I'm going to take advantage of this time away, this exorcism of words and go ballistic, which is something I've been missing for such a long time. If only my time here at home was a little bit longer.