Emily Gould, How much my novel cost me
I’m ashamed to admit how much I relate to this quotation, how much I struggle with letting go of the things that seem to make me less able to focus on books and writing in my journal and painting and just sitting still.
i’ve been without my computer for a week or two now, really only using it when i’m home and michael’s at work, which is usually one night a week, and it’s kind of amazing how quickly my mind has been able to recover from constant dash/feed scrolling. i haven’t replaced all that computer time with any writing or painting or anything like that, but i feel like i’m thinking in different ways and reacting to art and people in different ways (maybe the wrong ways, see last post, idk). i feel like i’m working up to something, and even if i’m not, i’m noticing things that i would have never noticed before, and i think that alone is worth it.
sometimes there is this part of me that is just dying to check certain websites and online communities, but i was so oversaturated, so exhausted, before that nothing at all seemed important or interesting and now i’m thinking maybe, maybe on that one night a week, i will actually care to hear this band’s new single or to read this or that essay or whatever.
i’m starting to realize and accept that i’m easily overwhelmed, that i’m very sensitive to pointless noise and chatter. i’m remembering why fasting is so important for a person like me, because i will indulge and overindulge and then suddenly i’ll find myself holed up, irritated and exhausted, incapable of having any sort of meaningful interaction with friends, and i won’t even know why. i let all of this noise in because i felt like i was supposed to. i’m realizing now that i never had to do that, that i don’t have to do that again, that just because some people can thrive in all that noise doesn’t mean i’m inferior to them because i can’t.