writing – Page 3 – Knocked Out No Longer

A Bit Too Exhausted

February 24, 2015May 15, 2017by Kim3 Comments

I’ve been relatively quiet lately.

There’s something that happens to me when I spend a lot of time out with friends. I become mentally exhausted and really just too worn out to get any sort of outside work done. The past few weeks has been all about hanging out with friends, working, and even a weekend trip to Austin.

The thing is, no matter how social I seem to the outside, I’m an introvert at heart. I’m a person who needs quiet time to reflect on emotions, actions, choices…and I haven’t had any of that lately. Often times, I don’t even realize that I’ve missed out on that quiet recharging time until I get so restless and anxious that I feel irritated by everything going on around me.

Now it’s time for a simple confession: I haven’t written in almost two weeks. I haven’t even tried.

I know I shouldn’t have any excuses. For someone who wants to be a published author, I really should be more dedicated to writing and put everything else lower on my priority list. But sleep has been taking over. Depression has been trying to fight its way back into my life. Thoughts of future responsibilities have me wanting to run away and forget that I owe anybody anything.

If you don’t know me in person, I’ve found myself in a bit of a unique situation. I’ve written about my adoption multiple times, but what I haven’t really hit on is that my parents are older. Older than even some of my friends’ grandparents. While they are right now still in relatively good health (which I jokingly tell them they owe me for), the truth is that I don’t feel like I’ve gone through enough life stages to have parents who might need me to stick around for a more permanent style of care. I have so many things I want to do with my life, but I can’t justify many of them if anything were to happen to my mom or dad. There’s no way I can live halfway across the world and expect them to be perfectly content with some stranger giving them the full-time care they might need in 10 years.

There’s one thought that keeps running through my head: right now, being a grown up is the most undesirable and hardest thing I can think of. I want to be free. I want to run off and make all sorts of decisions just for selfish reasons. i suppose that’s the key though. The key to maturity is realizing how difficult growing up and taking on responsibilities can be, but fighting through it anyway and making the best of hard situations. It means putting others before yourself and maybe giving up a few of your own desires along the way.

Getting back to my original thoughts now. I’m finally getting some actual alone time in a few days that will last for over a week, and that thought is the golden thread in my life at the moment. I’ll have a house to myself, actual quiet with no distractions bustling around downstairs. I’ll finally get to do what I’ve been dreaming of for months: turning off the internet and my phone and just writing. Writing in whatever room of the house I choose, writing at whatever time of day I desire, writing for hours without being reminded that I need to eat something or sleep. I’m taking one entire day completely to myself. That kind of recharge is exactly what I need to function.

I’ve rambled a bit off topic, but it’s late and I’m experiencing one of those word-vomit moments, the kind of moment where you’re finally writing again and all of your thoughts just pour out of your mind and through your fingertips. I suppose that I just needed to get these thoughts out. There’s something oddly therapeutic about blogging for me. Journaling is still probably my favorite form of writing, but blogging gives my brain the opportunity to think that there’s somebody out there reading all of this nonsense and knowing exactly how I feel. So if that’s you, thank you. Even if you never comment, but just have read any line of anything I’ve ever written, thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Austin, Texas - February 2015 — Austin, Texas – February 2015

listening to: Father John Misty

writing

The First Seven

February 6, 2015May 15, 2017by Kim3 Comments

I have a project that I’ve slowly been working on. A project that will hopefully chronicle the growth and strength of the culture I’ve mentioned a couple times prior in this blog. When the writing course I’ve been going through prompted us to work on some character descriptions and development, I was so excited because this was the perfect shot of adrenaline that I’ve been needing.

These are all based on people that I know and love dearly. The descriptions might be embellished here and there to create more interest, but this was an incredibly fun exercise. I only made it to seven people, but I’m hoping to expand this and possibly do some extra characters each week.

She flitted from group to group as if she knew everybody. She looked young, but seemed ageless. When she chose to, she could turn those crystal blue eyes on you and flash the brightest smile like you were the greatest person on the planet and her best friend. She was free, a hippy child born far past the era she belonged to. Under the freeness, however, was a vulnerability. If you took the time to get to know her, you noticed the expressions of uncertainty that flashed across her face when nobody was really paying attention. Through it all, she loved. She loved more fiercely than anyone I had ever encountered.

He had an aura of serenity enveloping him. His smile was slow and steady, and although he looked quite young in general, his eyes were ancient. When he chose to grace someone with his undivided attention, he looked as if nothing in your soul could be hidden from him. As terrifying as that should have been, his air of total acceptance put even the most unsettled person at peace. He was attractive in the traditional sense, but there was something oddly majestic about the way he carried his tall frame. You could see that he had dealt with many demons throughout his life, but his utter acceptance and love for everybody he met was proof of his strength.

His hair was untamable. His laugh was infectious. His smile was proof of his love for life and the people he surrounded himself with. He looked like the kind of person who could instantly befriend anybody, but it betrayed a little of his uncertainty if you looked carefully.

A third man sat in the corner with his phone in one hand and a pitcher of beer in the other. He hardly glanced up at all, but when he did, there was an attitude of melancholy that radiated off of his entire self. He wore a red beanie that sometimes served as a form of armor- a protection that prevented him from being completely vulnerable.

She walked in with the guy with the untamable hair. She knew his feelings- she knew that he wished they could be together and have a happily ever after, but her actions showed that she just didn’t care if she hurt him or not. She was careless- careless in a way that many viewed as attractive, but not in a way that brings any sort of value to a community. She lived her life without remotely caring about the feelings of people who dreamed of caring for her, so she left a path of destruction in her wake.

They were the ideal rocker couple. He expressed all of his emotions through his guitar, and she showed her love and support by being front row every single time he was on stage. He was the most introspective-looking man around, one who had thoughts running through his head constantly, but was only able to express those thoughts through music. He always looked as though he was under the influence of something, which he might have been, but you could also tell he was constantly fighting demons- demons of addiction and overindulgence. She loved him despite all of this- she loved him so selflessly. It was a pure sort of love- a love that was constant and battled through the demons, a love that most people could only dream of. They shared a love that was pure despite all of the dirt that tried to fight them.

listening to: Portugal the Man

Reflections

Ten Years of Advice

January 31, 2015May 15, 2017by Kim3 Comments

I have this strange fascination with what I can only call “instagram poets*”. There are probably literally thousands of them out there now, but two of my favorites have been around for a while and will both be published authors soon. Imagine my excitement, then, when I found out that one of them decided to create a 30-day writing course.

I signed up right away. I’ve been whining and moping about this epic case of writer’s block I’ve been battling, so I figured this would be the push I needed to start getting over it. The two authors who created this course came up with writing prompts for each day and included other questions and quotes to mull over each day. It’s only been going on for three days as of today, but I think it’s already been really helpful if for no other reason than just delving deeper into my own thoughts and feelings.

The first day’s prompt has been my favorite so far: we were supposed to write a letter to a 10-years-younger version of ourselves. I’ve done a similar exercise before, but you always get something different out of something like this. In an attempt to get my words out of myself, I’ve decided to publish the responses to the prompts I really enjoyed through this blog, starting with a letter to the fifteen-year-old me:

“I know you’re stubborn and aren’t really fond of anybody giving you advice, so I won’t. I won’t warn you about the decisions and choices you’re bound to make because you’ll refuse to listen and you need to learn for yourself.

You’ve got so much ahead of you. You’ve yet to really get to know the friends that will become your tribe of people- the family you’ve dreamed of for years. You’ve got adventures headed your way. In fact, this summer, you’ll fly to Germany and experience your first real love. No, not some boy, but a place and culture that you fit into so well, it’s almost as if you should have been born there.

You’re also going to experience more pain than I can express. I know it would be more practical to tell you to try and avoid making the decisions and mistakes I’ve made, but they’ll be what makes you great. Being an overcomer will be your greatest quality- trust me when I tell you you’ll make it through, even in the darkest of moments still yet to come.

I know you are incredibly boy-crazy right now, but don’t worry about it so much. I’m not going to lie and tell you that the perfect guy will come along any time soon, because I’m not even sure I’ve encountered that magical person yet. Just don’t get so desperate to finally get that boyfriend and first kiss that you settle. You’ll eventually find somebody in a few years, but don’t take the friendship side of it for granted. Be a better communicator. If you don’t, you’ll lose years and years with someone who could be one of your best friends.

Speaking of communication, work on that with your family as well. Spend as much time as humanly possible getting stories from your grandmothers. They’ve lived such interesting lives and are incredibly strong in their own rights. However, age will inevitably catch up to them and their memories are stories will be lost forever if you aren’t careful. Eventually this will also happen to your parents, so soak up time and memories with them instead of avoiding them every second of every day.

College is going to be a weird experience for you. You won’t finish or be very traditional about it, but don’t worry about what that says about your character or intelligence. You’re much smarter than you give yourself credit, you just haven’t found the correct outlet for your creativity yet.

Writing is going to really help you find clarity when your life takes a nosedive. Trust your friends because they will turn out to be completely loving and loyal. Don’t lose your faith in humanity even when some guys down the road treat you without a speck of respect. Hold on to your love for the world and helping others.

When your gut screams that something isn’t quite right, follow the gut feeling. You might still have that pride that’s unwilling to let anyone see you’ve made a bad decision, but you have to let go of that. That pride will be your downfall. That pride will drive you straight to the pits of hell. Don’t let your pride define your decisions”

Lago di Lugano- Paridiso, Lugano, Switzerland (July 2014)

listening to: Portugal. The Man.

*poets mentioned in the beginning: Tyler Knott Gregson and Christopher Poindexter

mental health, Reflections

Feedback

December 16, 2014May 15, 2017by Kim1 Comment

If there’s one thing that I’ve enjoyed about writing on this blog more than anything else, the chances it’s given me to connect with other people is hands down my favorite. I’ve written about how flattered, yet taken aback, I’ve been when it comes to old acquaintances or friends emailing me to let me know they’ve been reading my blog, but it struck me again just how incredible it can be.

Yesterday, I got the pleasure of having lunch with a friend I hadn’t seen in over 10 years. She was only back in Texas for a few days visiting family before flying back to LA, so getting to spend a few hours catching up with her was really special. We got onto the topic of my blog and how she had started reading it months ago, and it was just so exciting to get to audibly hear what somebody else thought of it. The thing that struck me most is that she found what I’ve written so far to be relatable and open, which has always been my main goal.

Deep in my soul, I have all these dreams of being able to help people who are struggling with the same types of demons that I’ve fought for years. That isn’t to say that I wish some of my past experiences on anybody, but being a support system for somebody who might not have anyone else has been a goal of mine for a while now. Yes, I do get caught off-guard every time anybody tells me that I’ve been able to inspire them the smallest amount, but it’s also exciting. It means that being as honest as possible on here is accomplishing exactly what I’m hoping for: letting people who might be struggling know that they’re not alone.

I don’t think I can say this enough times, but I like being an open book when it comes to my writing. It’s a freeing experience. I have this tendency to dwell on specific moments for far too long, but when I can write down the thoughts going through my mind, it’s almost as if I can remove myself from the situation a bit and look at the problems more objectively. I think exposing all of the dark moments is the best way for me to truly heal, so I’ll continue down the path of sharing as much as possible for as long as possible.

Cotton plants on the way out to West Texas - October 2014 — Cotton plants on the way out to West Texas – October 2014

Uncategorized

A Response

September 26, 2014September 26, 2014by Kim1 Comment

It’s come to my attention that my writing on this blog may not always be the most cheerful. It’s not my intention to write posts that sadden people or make them feel that I’m lost. I don’t feel sorry for myself, and I certainly don’t expect others to feel that way either.

I know my writing style is much different than it was a year or two ago when I was writing on my other blog. It’s hard to believe that I entered into the world of blogging almost two and a half years ago. When I look back at all of that time, I know that I wasn’t being completely honest with myself or others in my writing. When I did write about topics that truly interested me or moved me, I worried about them for ages before ever hitting “publish”. Most of the time, the things I wrote didn’t even begin to scratch the surface of my character. They focused on the material, the superficial, and the emptiness that my life was mostly about.

With major life changes comes major growth. I’m not using this blog for any other purpose than to practice my writing and hopefully inspire some people along the way. I write about the thoughts going through my mind like the one yesterday because I know that I’m not the only person that feels that way after making initial contact with biological family members.

I want to be relatable. I don’t want to act like I have my life together because I absolutely do not. I don’t want to portray that life is all sunshines and rainbows, because I believe there’s also a strange sort of beauty in the melancholy times. Being human means experiencing ups and downs, and my favorite part of relationships is the ability to relate to others in those ups and downs.

This blog is meant to be a chronicling of my thoughts and the progress I’m continually making in healing and learning more about myself. Yes, there are still some fluff pieces every now and then, because they can be enjoyable to write if the mood strikes, but I’ve always enjoyed deep discussions more than small talk and I’d like to think my writing reflects that. Even the title of this blog is a word play on that move from the part of my life where I felt so lost to where I am now, content in who I’m becoming and excited to be able to open up about my struggles if there’s a chance my stories can help others in similar situations.

Temple of the Mount, Jerusalem, Israel- March 2014

listening to: Aqualung

Tag: writing