this evening, i made my way to One Stop Poetry for their Friday Poetically with Brian Miller. as i read, the words struck a cord with me that runs very deep into the recesses of my psyche that i try to avoid. unfortunately this means the beginning of this post will be what i endearingly refer to as a rambling. for those who came to read the poem, my take on the heart, the community, my desire or angst about writing, feel free to skip to the end of this post...for the rest of you...you too may wish to avoid the recesses of my psyche and scroll down...
where to begin...i get the whole reciprocal effect; i visit someone, leave a comment and if i'm lucky they'll visit me and leave a comment. i get that it builds readership and relationships. and even though my intent in blogging was merely to get me to start writing again (a homeopathic treatment of sorts) and not to build an audience or foster relationships, seeing that people have visited and receiving comments is a definite (and strangely needed) plus. my problem in six simple words..."social anxiety follows me into cyberspace."
i wrote a poem entitled Follower, Friend and the Like, which speaks to my unusual anxiety (some might term it a phobia--though i'm not sure they have a name for it). i read several blogs; i bookmark them or plug them into my rss feeder on my phone so that i can keep up with what others i have found interesting are writing. but i have never hit a "Follow" button. i can't explain it, but the idea of publicly following someone causes such anxiety, i just can't bring myself to do it. and i look at those who have found me interesting enough to follow and i so wish that i could reciprocate so that they would know i find their writing as interesting as they find mine, but...
if just clicking a silly but is impossible, commenting is even more of a challenge. but one thing i have continually work on is not allowing my fears to completely control me. so this year i made myself a rule of sorts that i need to comment on at least one blog a week. participating in several blog communities and their challenges, i have found this daunting task to have gone well beyond one. but commenting for me is not easy chore. i probably labor more over a comment i leave than my own writing. i'll read someone's post multiple times, try to get a real feel for it, try to figure out what speaks to me, because while saying "nice poem" counts as a comment, i prefer there to be some type of meaning or connection to what they write. it makes it harder because i confess my reading comprehension skills are not really that good. i'm a math person, very logical and structure, that sometimes other's writing is beyond me.
i sit here and i can't help but laugh (a pathetic disbelieving type of laugh). i have enough troubles fostering relationships in real life. i wrote a poem yesterday called Alone. in it is the following, "i'm surrounded by people who care/ and yet/ i feel like an outsider looking in/ a part, yet separate." if i have troubles with real life people (not that those of you reading this are not real life people, you just don't exist in my everyday personal touchable world) how am i suppose to build and maintain them in a world where interaction is limited to comments?
well, i think i rambled enough. i'm sure there is more in my head just dying to get out, but i'll save those of you who were brave enough to read this rambling from any further insight into my pathetic being.
for this poem, i admit that i stole lines from the two poems mentioned above; i thought it only fitting...
To be rid of this curse
my heart wishes to be rid of this curse
a smile spreads across my face at the thought
for but a split second
until my teeth clench
and tears itch at the corners of my eyes
i use pen and paper--fingers and keyboard
to purge myself of this evil within
but neither pen nor fingers move fast enough
i push myself into the real world and cyberspace
to face the fears that bind me
but neither real nor cyber break through the bonds
my heart wishes to be free of this curse
i itch to truly connect
to no longer feel like an outsider looking in
to feel the warmth of acceptance that eludes