Influences (or Why I Write the Way I Do)

Natalie Goldberg (free-flowing writing)
Clarissa Pinkola Estes (wild woman writing)
Jane Hutchison (direct-to-the-point writing)
Ernest Hemingway (simple words writing)

Friday, October 31, 2014

Cry for Help

it was the neglect. the feeling of not being trusted. work trivialized, and even demeaned.

the trusted one on top also had their moments. also clammed up. decided not to get involved. perhaps undergoing a similar catharsis, the disbelief, the loss of purpose. the feeling of losing one's purpose within the team, the lost purpose of leading, being a part of it.

and to be strong gets one to an even lonelier road. when in even articulating cries for help, one meets deadening silence. so it's not true after all. there is no one out there who really cares. really wonders how you are, just for your sake. no one. and best friends cannot be depended at this point. they think it's just work. they think you've been through similar travails, and you'll get through. assumptions, analogies, and silences. you do not get any attention, no consolation of a text, a phone call, nothing.

no wonder suicides come at a surprise to close friends, love ones. they do not get the cue. they all rely on physical markers. there is no attempt to understand the longing behind the sentences. they want more proof beyond the literal cries for help - as in help me, i need you, can you please be my friend now?

the back hurts, the neck hurts, the heart hurts.

who will listen? who will call? who will care?

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