I have taken courageous steps this year by submitting to 5 publications and 1 grant. I did not get the grant, I was declined in one publication, and was accepted in another. As for the others, I’m still waiting. I also started this blog a few weeks into the pandemic because I was desperate for a sense of achievement, or progress, or purpose, or whatever feeling I could get that isn’t anxiety.
Never giving up on your dreams is a cliché because at some point, you need to hit yourself in the head and say, okay, you’re not cut out for this. I know, writing is a form of expression but some people aren’t contented with just ‘expressing’ themselves. Some people want to be read. Yes, me, I’m ‘some people’.
You win some, you lose some. I’m so used to getting rejection letters but it never gets easier. I’m trying to fool myself into having a normal day and not thinking about it. That’s wrong. I have to mourn. I created something and it’s just not good enough to be published. I can be a little sad. Cry for about five minutes and keep typing again.
And then there are small victories that lifted me up from the losing streak.
But, I still have to ask myself: how do I know that I need to keep on going? And how do I know that it’s just time to settle and that I’ll just be a (kawaii?) potato all my life?
And is being an unpublishable potato such a bad thing?
Before the Community Quarantine, my room was a consistent mess. I often worked in coffee shops or in the university library so I didn’t find the need to fix my setup. Cabin fever got the best of me and now I’m obsessed with cleaning and rearranging my room.
My room’s small and I have a lot of plushies: Pokèmons, Doraemon, BT21 (RJ! Seokjin is 💜🌼) and shibas. So I got rid of them. Okay, not really. I stacked them inside the cabinet and created a space that would help me read and write in peace.
I did not do a full-blown Marie Kondo-esque spree because the last time I did that, I relapsed into a Miniso shopping panic and ended up with way more than the original clutter. So the plushies stayed and here’s my space:
I also moved some of the books from the living room to my dedicated workspace.
I made use of all that Instax pictures I kept for years. I miss my friends and traveling. 🥺 All the traveling I can do now is through words.
I cleared another shelf. This used to be stacked with clutter like skin care and makeup. Stowed all the makeup for now. It’s not like I can go out or anything. But skincare stays, of course.
And here’s a picture of my dog looking like he remembered a joke from five years ago. Or is he amused that I’m cleaning my room?
Hope you’re all well! I think I’ll do some cleaning again.