I will fully admit to a lot of things I'm not good at . . . and one of the main ones is speaking in front of people. Even telling a joke or recounting something that happened to me earlier that day is something I can't always do well. I get nervous and start to stammer and forget what I was saying midway through. I've always been far better at expressing my feelings, telling stories via the written word than the spoken word. Back in high school, in English it would always be my presentation skills that would bring me down; in French, I was better at writing in another language than speaking it. But even as a child, I always had confidence in my ability to write. On top of that, I was the only seven year old in my class who could write in paragraphs.
But now . . . even my writing skills don't feel up to par. I think of something i want to write and, in my head, it is epic. But then . . . when I try to put it into real words, it somehow gets lost in translation. I know exactly what I WANT to say . . . but I just can't seem to communicate it the way I want to. It feels fake, flat, dead. It feels like I'm FORCING it. I feel like I'm forcing it. I hate that.
I've been experiencing blogger envy on a daily basis. I am jealous of those who can communicate ideas I have in my head, but can't seem to express in writing - Princess Pointful is one who springs to mind in this instance, or this post by Chele. Or those like LiLu and Maxie who have this amazing ability to find humour in even the smallest of situations - and manage to actually express it so you feel like you were THERE. Or just about anyone on my blog roll who can make my day in seconds, or sum up exactly what I'm feeling, when I can't do so myself.
Last week I went to see 2012, and I wanted to write a review afterwards. In my head, once again, the review was absolutely incredible. I knew everything I wanted to talk about, the points I wanted to get across . . . But I just wasn't happy with the finished result.
What is wrong with me? I used to read things I wrote and I felt like I had some promise there. I can still see the promise in the old stuff. But these days I just find myself . . . well a bit lacking, to be honest.
Is it just that I'm so disillusioned with the real world that I've lost my ability to be creative the way I want to be? That I just lack the energy to TRY anymore?
They say words can't hurt you. But I kinda feel like they've turned on me now . . .