There is so much to explore when you move to a city like New York. It can be a little overwhelming. One of the ways I’ve been exploring is being spontaneous and stumbling into random cafes or bars with my notebook. I bring my notebook with me, because that makes me feel less awkward. Doom scrolling on the phone in public is not my vibe. A computer is a good writing pal to bring, but sometimes I don’t want to bring it. So a cute little notebook it is.
My little random notebook. Isn’t it cute?
There is something about free writing by hand with an ink pen. I would show you the actual page, but let me tell you. It’s so messy. When I free write, it’s like getting downloads of codes, while I manically write it all down. I’m not in the lines and I probably, now that I think of it, look like a mad scientist while I’m doing it. Should I be embarrassed? Nah, maybe somewhere else, but not in New York.
Okay, so when you free write, if you haven’t done it before. It’s basically whatever comes to mind, your hand scribbles a story/thoughts down, no matter what. And sometimes, deep rooted feelings come out. So if you know me personally and you’re reading this, don’t think too hard about what you might read, please. And if you or you are reading this. Yes you, all I have to say is: My version of that quote from that one famous song, “You’re so vain, you probably think my Substack is about you.”
Anyway, this is what I wrote during one of my free writing sessions.
Soul Contract A thought about another day. A day when I didn't care this much. You are a new thing for me. Like a slow burn- The flame was burning, but I didn't know - I really didn't. Then it grew and now I don't know what to do. I think of ways to silence you. I don't like your choices. I hate them. They keep me up at night. I say to myself why would, how could I love someone like you. What you do behind closed doors. My anxiety that I get just walking- My heart races each morbid complex thought of you. Now, all of you doesn't Make me feel like this. But these are the parts that haunt me. It drives me crazy- I didn't feel this way a few years into knowing you. Then, one night- After we saw each other- The burner turned higher And then higher. Now the flame is something I can't control. I want to blow Our flame out. It's hard though Because at the same time- I feel like we are unfinished. Shit maybe we are though. Burn baby burn. The flame continues to grow. And it's water proof. I think the whole ocean is the Only thing that can diminish The flame. To make it stop. I know you feel it too. It broke you. As it broke me. What is next- I don't know. With all this said- I also smile at the Thought of you. You're a plot twist I didn't see coming. You're the love that I need For my story. A story I didn't know I was writing. So conflicting. My heart goes Up and down. Side to side. Smile, frown, smile, frown. Help me angels in the sky- Tell me what to do about this Deep toxic love of mine.
Me at a bar writing my feelings.
Jean Baptiste Greuze - The Broken Mirror
Thank you for reading. I will post more of these free writing sessions. I have more. Happy Autumn.
Love you,
Elisa