Writing Rejections (on the rejection of several more submissions)

Self-Soothing

 

The drudgery of dawning – sometimes so elegant and enlightening, sometimes belabored and torturous impatience – always the heavy friction of waves.  Of particles as they place and displace in their constant rearrangement, the permanent battle of hope and resignation.  Rising up, coming down.

How I write about disappointments – the very act of writing an urgent inking of the sky, even while it fades or darkens, glares or washes out.

Of rejections – their steady dismissal, the missed sunrise/sunset – a glory of chance forever undone.  Overlooked.  “Wrong place at the wrong time.”

In other words, again.  That waves and particles eons-old rumble and bumble about around and against one another, often contrary impulses and contents dislodging, jockeying, a kind of dance seen from extremely close or far enough away, making out of blue or black a purpled-grey tinged greenish pink and orange; or a bleeding scrape of burgundy’d magenta replete with yellowing sears.

Straining can produce glorious things.

The continuous waffling betwixt bright and ominous, stars glittering through their winky charms, or a saturate void.  White dreaming pale translucence or deeper colors leaking through.  It never stops, the gradients without lines.  So I continue in the way that I flow, waves and particles of me assembling/reassembling and what results is what the friction sparks – disappointments and the hope to write them out.

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11 thoughts on “Writing Rejections (on the rejection of several more submissions)

  1. I could live and definitely “drown” for ever and ever amongst your “soothing” words, let myself go, allow me to be rocked by them, once they sound and call me like nature rhythms, melodies, almost whispers. And they join together in such harmony as if they were dancing while, at the very same time, their steps and moves draw and paint themselves with the most colourful pictures nature can offer us, unique, unexpected, irresistible, non-repeatable.
    Your writing is far too seductive and passionate!
    This analogy between Mother Nature (sunrise / sunset) and human nature (‘sunrise’ symbolizing life, beginning, hope, impatience, anxiety, strength, energy, youth (…) versus ‘sunset’ symbol of disappointment, helplessness, giving up, nostalgia, end, loss (…) is outstanding!
    Being part of nature, we also tend to find / look for explanations for our feelings in it, mostly whenever we are unable to accept, understand, verbalize or deal with them.
    Regarding disappointments, the ones you emphasize in this text of yours… Sunset gives the PERFECT idea about how we feel. 10 seconds can make a difference! Whether you miss “the entire, unique event”, so to say if you aren’t attentive for an eye-blink or… you’ll be too late! And THAT sunset you’ll never get back!
    Some disappointing experiences can be so harsh that you can’t talk, nor write about them, when you tend to do it as a sort of therapy or self-knowledge. It hurts too damn much inside. It burns and the colours of sunset are now pictured and carved inside you but burning like flames. However, you’re the only one who sees and feels their burning.
    Then it gets dark and you feel cold, so cold… You need a hot shower to warm you up, but you’re too scared that that fire that may look back and come after you… Then you hide and crawl… And the coldness is back again… And your bones hurt and your tears freeze…
    (…)
    When you’re already able to write about disappointments, even about you being a disappointment, then digestion is done. Without being aware of that, you’re kind of free, relieved and telling about an experience that (surprisingly!) presents itself in front of you as sort of a film. And you even have a trailer for it!
    “Gosh! Oh, gosh!” That’s when you think and mumble: “This story is no longer mine!”
    Nevertheless you don’t notice that “your sunrise” has already come back. That’s when you should stop and say (or write): “Thank you, dear me, (or whatever) for being able to write!”

    C.

  2. Thank you very much for taking the time to read and comment. It is encouraging to hear that the words are heard and find empathy. Very kind thoughts, thank you.

"A word is a bridge thrown between myself and an other - a territory shared by both" - M. Bakhtin

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