Kegels

Lulu climbs onto my shoulder and perches.  “Be my muse,” I say.  She temporarily nestles in the crook of my neck before launching her attack on my Mac.  Ten minutes ago she was banned for attempting to comment “qqq” on a fellow blogger’s post before redirecting me to a blog I had not visited.  I read it searching for some inspiration.

I bought this kitten to feel more alive.   I am blogging to feel more present in every moment, to really pay attention.  I need to examine things the way she does, as if everything is newly discovered.  I need to use more imagery, similes, metaphors.  I need not to be so “telly.”  I need to vary my sentence beginnings.

Maybe my voice is my out loud voice.  In person I can be funny because I think quickly and quip sarcasticly.  It’s funny because it’s spontaneous.  If people know you have hours on end to write something funny, well it’s not really so funny.  It’s a little contrived.  Trying too hard.  My writing can even be preachy.

It’s Kegel writing.  I can’t just let myself write freely, I am compelled to do these writing Kegels to strengthen my writing muscles.  Not just let myself let it all out. I edit and censor constantly.  As I write this I am worried about the word “quip” in the last paragraph.   Some people have “pee fright.”  I have “write fright.”  I worry what people will think.  Maybe I do this for approval, not just for a catharsis.  Maybe I do this for selfish reasons, because I want to connect with people, I want to provide them with genius insight, I want them to get me.  I told myself that getting the kitten wasn’t selfish, but who rescued whom?

In any case, if people figure out who I am, I will never be able to run for president.

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