Equating Writing to Wallowing

Equating Writing to Wallowing

A Poem by alienated.aquarius
"

learning to separate self-pity with legitimate grief

"

I am held hostage

By the intruder in my head

I allow things to

consume me too easily

It’s all or nothing

Even with myself

If other people won’t love me

I don’t see a reason to love me

Damn when will I ever

Write something happy!

Catie why so crazy?

Well f**k if I know

Call it karma

Call it chemical

But if you can’t call me

By my name

You can f**k off.

 

Shoulda woulda coulda

My whole f*****g life

So sick of this s**t

My serotonin’s on strike

 

Wish I spent less

Time on the internet

Consuming mindless content

Living out failed dreams

 

It’s like I’ve scribbled my fate away

Set up as a cliché

The problematic poet

Who knows if I’ll make it to 27

Manifesting destiny of the damned

Might as well be dead

F**k this mess, why speak if

Everyone’s talking and nobody’s listening?

 

My work may not harvest clever metaphors

And delicate comparisons

But it dares you beyond your norm

And is hard to digest

If you have a hard time swallowing

Your pride.

 

I don’t need to justify being a writer

I’m plastered on the page

You don’t have to like me or my writing

But I’m pretty damn hard to ignore.

Sure, you may think I’m wallowing

In my depression den of

An inadequate brain,

The pity party of poetry

I’ll just pretend half the other poets

Aren’t also self-indulgent in their sorrows.

Poetry chapbook 'Sonder' now available on Amazon!

© 2019 alienated.aquarius


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I wallow----in every story I write. I have a tendency to dive into my depression and wallow there too occasionally. And when I do, I get angry at myself now. I've been told that I should keep a journal or write about my life but I don't write about my personal life, that would be too boring. And boring is my problem with life so, I create my own excitement. I create characters that I love and hate and I make them do what I want and need them to do. They act out like a movie in my brain. When I write I laugh, cry, learn, feel loved, feel hate, sometimes I even kill. I do these things through my characters and I find it cheers me up, makes me happy, gives me excitement. When the story is finished, I spend days or even weeks wallowing in the memory of it, enjoying it over and over until it's time to create another one. My stories have literally kept me alive, kept me sane. My best friends live on bookshelves. They never leave me, betray me or hurt me. They are always there for me, waiting. They speak to me when I need them and when I'm alone and in the mood to write, they come alive and then I'm alive too. I'm not good at poetry. I like writing stories. Writing is my drug. It saved my life, as I said, literally. I look back and then look at my kids and my grandkids now and thank God for giving me a creative mind and choosing that moment in my life to show me that it was there. I can't imagine missing the years of love I've had and look forward to many more. The mind is a freaky thing and sometimes it needs something to calm it, kick it up, or help it understand. Sometimes it might be a drug, or someone to talk to or both, or maybe a hobby that really fills the void. Some people get lucky and that hobby can be lucrative enough to sustain them all of their life and they can push out the rest of the world. Some minds like that privacy, that seclusion. Some minds need noise and crowds and some minds just need love to make everything else tick. If I feel some days that no one cares or loves me, I remember who does and always will. My characters. All I have to do is close my eyes and call their name. They've never let me down.

Posted 3 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

alienated.aquarius

3 Months Ago

thank you for sharing this, i really appreciate your insight.



Reviews

this made me sad. well done.

Posted 2 Weeks Ago


Been there...done that. I can see how one would think that "we wallow in our depression." Loved this.

Posted 1 Month Ago


"My serotonin’s on strike"

When I look at the flowers I see the colors, and that's all they are.
I see the sun rise up, it's warm rays embracing me and I feel the hollow coldness of my bones.
When someone smiles at me affectionately I stretch the muscles in my face in response.
Sometimes I hope my empty imitations of happiness will bring joy into my life.
But f**k, my serotonin is on strike.

I love this line, well I would that I could.

Posted 2 Months Ago


sometimes we need to wallow,but then you realize it wasn`t necessary,somebody loves you

Posted 3 Months Ago


Your writing is so "on-point" in this! Sometimes your intensity comes & goes thru a msg, but here you are banging all the way along. Your word-crafting is banging, in terms of clever phrasing & catchy sounds. Your authenticity is banging becuz of how you cough out such ragged truths. To me, it's orgasmic joy to have reached the point where I don't care whether people read me or like me or care about anything that touches me. That's the way you fling your words out at us in this piece & I love it! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

Posted 3 Months Ago


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Vin
Write a youmg ome's playing- dont give a damn of what other's think. But give it your all.
With full involvement you can achieve what many other's don't- a joyful life and a very deep sleep.

LOVE

Posted 3 Months Ago


I feel the words.
"The pity party of poetry

I’ll just pretend half the other poets

Aren’t also self-indulgent in their sorrows'
Writers and poet, can forget, more than words. Prime example, Salinger. He wrote 20 hours a day till his death. Quit publishing his work 50 before his death. I would love to red his work. Outstanding poetry shared my friend.
Coyote

Posted 3 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I wallow----in every story I write. I have a tendency to dive into my depression and wallow there too occasionally. And when I do, I get angry at myself now. I've been told that I should keep a journal or write about my life but I don't write about my personal life, that would be too boring. And boring is my problem with life so, I create my own excitement. I create characters that I love and hate and I make them do what I want and need them to do. They act out like a movie in my brain. When I write I laugh, cry, learn, feel loved, feel hate, sometimes I even kill. I do these things through my characters and I find it cheers me up, makes me happy, gives me excitement. When the story is finished, I spend days or even weeks wallowing in the memory of it, enjoying it over and over until it's time to create another one. My stories have literally kept me alive, kept me sane. My best friends live on bookshelves. They never leave me, betray me or hurt me. They are always there for me, waiting. They speak to me when I need them and when I'm alone and in the mood to write, they come alive and then I'm alive too. I'm not good at poetry. I like writing stories. Writing is my drug. It saved my life, as I said, literally. I look back and then look at my kids and my grandkids now and thank God for giving me a creative mind and choosing that moment in my life to show me that it was there. I can't imagine missing the years of love I've had and look forward to many more. The mind is a freaky thing and sometimes it needs something to calm it, kick it up, or help it understand. Sometimes it might be a drug, or someone to talk to or both, or maybe a hobby that really fills the void. Some people get lucky and that hobby can be lucrative enough to sustain them all of their life and they can push out the rest of the world. Some minds like that privacy, that seclusion. Some minds need noise and crowds and some minds just need love to make everything else tick. If I feel some days that no one cares or loves me, I remember who does and always will. My characters. All I have to do is close my eyes and call their name. They've never let me down.

Posted 3 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

alienated.aquarius

3 Months Ago

thank you for sharing this, i really appreciate your insight.
i don't think it is being self-indulgent....i just think it is that feeling things won't get better...we can get there...all of us...we try to write our way out of it, but that doesn't always work.
j.

Posted 3 Months Ago


HI
I am new here, after reading this I was actually reminded of something I posted
You really should check it out
its called''is it?''

and I think all writers will relate to being ''wallowy''
we are not self indulgent we are just too complicated to be understood even sometimes by ourselves.


Posted 3 Months Ago



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10 Reviews
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Added on October 10, 2019
Last Updated on October 10, 2019
Tags: poetry, poem, poet, depression, mental health, mental illness, anxiety, suicide, creativity, writer, artist, inspiration, self harm

Author

alienated.aquarius
alienated.aquarius

Buffalo, NY



About
Hi! I'm Catie. i write things (poems, fiction, blogs/articles) and try to publish them. i love chasing waterfalls and sunsets. i was born at a very young age. i can pick things up with my toes. i'm ob.. more..

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