Inside the Lines


Does anyone even read words anymore? And I don’t mean the newspaper, magazines, meaningless pages and pages of garbage. Words, I mean heartfelt words that are oftentimes written from deep within broken hearts and spirits, shattered hopes and dreams, tragedy and depression. Does anyone remember the greatness that can come from these words? 

I’ve been horrible at keeping up with my blog. For awhile there I was doing well, posting a Weekend Coffee Share every Sunday, and attempting a Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers post a few times. Was it a few times? Maybe I never published it. A few other posts as well, but then I just kinda fell away. I watched my number of readers climb and it amazed me. I often wondered Do these people even care about what I’m writing? 

Maybe that’s why I don’t stay consistent with my writing. Because I figure what I have to say doesn’t matter much to anyone but me. And that’s okay with me. Afterall, I write for myself and maybe one other. One other that I’m always hoping will read my words. I always hope that this one person will understand what I am trying to say, where I am coming from. I don’t know if they do. That doesn’t much matter either though.

What can I say that would be real? And I don’t mean real in the sense of chatter about my day. My days are very mundane. Repetitive. Exhausting. I tried to explain once to someone that I love how exhausting life is for me and I think it depressed them. But it’s the truth. It’s the same motions, the same people, the same job, the same talk day in and day out. It’s like that movie Groundhog Day, you know, with Bill Murray. Always waiting to wake up and not be stuck on repeat. Only that never happens.

The thought of adulthood used to depress me when I was a child. The reality of working my fingers to the bone to buy a house and car and extravagant things for myself, my family, only to spend the rest of my life indebted to paying these things off. Adulthood always seemed like such a ripoff. And sometimes I still feel like this.

Ah yes, but the small things! Things like watching this tiny pup of mine in her playful days, becoming accustomed to her new surroundings while building bonds with our family. Things like watching my son excel in football this season. Listening to my Oldest Daughter sing in her school’s choir. Listening to Youngest Daughter tell me interesting things she learned in school and her artwork! It’s wonderful! No, these things make these dreadfully disappointing days worthwhile. It’s just all the moments in between that disappointment me.

These days move far too quickly yet all the while I feel as though I am standing still.



5 thoughts on “Inside the Lines

  1. I relate to this in so many levels and I don’t know if that’s a good thing. 😅 I know the feeling of writing the words you wish to say to the person you wanted to say it to and hoping they’ll just read it. And I’m experiencing that “depressing-feeling-of-being-an-adult” feeling right now. But I guess that’s life, it’s not meant for it to be always in a straight line. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I wonder the same thing. I have garnered several more followers and I wonder if they actually read anything I write.
    I’ve already had my bid at watching my children grow up. Now, I should be watching my grandchildren grow up….but that won’t happen.
    I not only feel like I’m standing still….I am standing still.
    Sending you hugs, Angie. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I think blogging can be a vanity game (“me me me”) but there are genuine exceptions who will connect to the content. So yes, I can definitely say there are people reading words, your words. Probably not all of them, but we do. 🙂
    But the things is, what I tell myself is that as a writer, all I can do is to put it out there to my best ability. The other part, the reactions, the being read or not, is not up to me. My job is finished when I hit the publish button. If good things happen afterwards, if I can make connections afterwards, is a gift, not a compulsory payment. At least that’s how I feel.
    I hope you can find enough happiness in those little things you mentioned to enjoy the routine in your days as well. Or maybe the little moments can give you enough courage to shake up those routines if that’s what you desire. 🙂 Either way, keep it up, the blogging, the sharing, the good living. ❤

    Liked by 2 people

  4. I think anybody who has ever picked up a pen and paper and scribbled their heart away can relate to this, well now it’s less on paper and more on keyboards not even that, its sliding fingers on touch screen surfaces and pressing send…. Then waiting for someone to read and actually appreciate it…..

    Do people really read? Yes there are some who do, actually what I ask myself mostly as I read is that do people really still write?
    I think we read at least people like me read less because people are writing less, not less in terms of words used but less in terms and of how much of themselves they pour into their writing, writing is brutal, but I find the ones who write the most beautifully are those who have experienced a lot, not even personally but to someone they have been in contact with, not even a family member but even a stranger they barely talked to, just a quick stolen glance…..
    Maybe that’s all just me, and this comment has run away with me I’ll have to turn it into a blog post, I shan’t even reread so please ignore any typos because I fear if I reread it I’ll delete it all and end up just “I know what you mean… ”

    I have always felt adulting is such a swindle….. I envy Peter Pan who can’t stop flying because.. NeverLand 😆😆😆 and Of course everyone grows up… Everyone except Peter Pan.
    It’s the same motions, the same people, the same job, the same talk day in and day out…….Always waiting to wake up and not be stuck on repeat. Only that never happens.”



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