There's a reason I left writing until the end of my 30s. While I was a passionate writer in my early 20s, I soon realised it wasn't just a passion - it was an obsession - something I couldn't do without (an old 'Meet Joe Black' reference there).
I wrote during every waking hour when I wasn't working. This left no time for me to enjoy a relationship with my partner. While my turning to writing was symptomatic of a bad relationship at the time, regardless, I decided it's not something I wanted to do while I had a partner.
So while the ideas would come and get jotted down - sometimes to the tune of 150 pages or more, they were left as ideas, waiting for the day when I would be old and infirm enough to be able to enjoy writing without guilt.
As is common, my life didn't go as expected. And now I find myself in a position where my writing won't get in the way of anything else and my passion - my obsession - is back in full swing.
Which leaves only biology to interrupt.
There is nothing more annoying that being alive. Bear with me here. Living beings need to eat, sleep, relieve themselves, shower, exercise and a myriad other small things that take time and energy.
Whether it's writing or recording music, biology is the thorn in the creative's side. Especially sleep. Nothing is worse than being in full creative flight and realising that if you don't lie down soon, you will probably die.
Eating no longer gives pleasure. It's just a chore, something you have to do to feed the nagging insistence of your body.
Relieving yourself - well - I've become quite annoyed with my body's apparent deliberate attempts to sabotage a track by suddenly reminding me this needs to happen. I feel silly afterwards, but having a tiny tantrum on finding I have to go to the toilet, however humorous it may seem, is a part of my life when I'm in Creative mode.
If biology is such a drag, imagine how much of a drag social obligations can become - or chores like cleaning, cooking, shopping and dressing yourself. Wearing a bra? Hahahahaha. I don't think so!
I envy those who can earn a living from their art. I would never expect to - my writing is a passion I want to share with the world, but I have no expectations that the world will feel about it as I do.
My 40hr a week job is my first commitment, after which, the world unfolds into colour and scent and life as I write or sing.
In this lifetime I may never find a partner who fits the (rather unique) bill I need him to fit in order for him to be The One and that may be a blessing. Because this passion - this obsession - with its concomitant antisocial behaviours, is not something I would wish on a relationship.
- Kaia
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