Thursday, December 30, 2010

Verbally Constipated

I loved the book Catch-22 for the way it spins out the ridiculous contradictions of war.  People today say the phrase 'Catch-22' in reference to a no-win situation, but this use leaves out its absurd dimension.


I feel like shit.  Again.  Stuck in the hole where my life has no meaning because I can't work, because the only thing I seem to be able to do, art, is incredibly competitive and involves regularly putting my Self up for review and often rejection.

Sometimes I can write, sometimes I can't.  Right now I feel verbally constipated.  Stuck inside myself.  Too many feelings, thoughts, fears, frustrations, overfilling the balloon that is my head, and I can't find a channel OUT.
 Not being able to express myself at all well traps me in solitary confinement.

That other post I just made?  I wrote it weeks ago.

I have been having a really hard time lately with my father.  Again.  Been having a hard time again.
We go around these circles, sometimes coasting but more often scraping against one another like pieces of dull metal that don't fit together, shrieking, grinding, wearing one another down.  Some people say we clash because we're so much alike.  I don't know, I just know it's painful.
  I hope someday to be able to write about our relationship and see some humorous absurdity in it.  Maybe like a Catch-22.  Someday.

4 comments:

  1. Hey Jessica

    We are sometimes like twins, not mirrors (mirrors are opposites). It is hard and it is painful.

    I hadn't written in weeks either. Yet we both just did. It's ok. Sometime everything becomes something that we need a break from, just a little while.

    As usual, your words resonate so strongly with me.

    Take care
    Kelly

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  2. It turns out to mean 'Controlled Hunting' in Catalan, though even my Honduran boyfriend missed the little slash below the second 'c' that changes the meaning. Pretty amusing.

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