Monday, May 2, 2011

Yellow Wallpaper writing prompt

Writing Exercise: Imagine you are obsessed with an object of some sort. If you were to project your thoughts and feelings onto that object, who or what would be there and what would it become?

P.S. NOT a mirror, unless it’s a magic mirror.

: )


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  2. Sure enough, I could not think of anything else and had a water bottle next to me while writing this. I tried to relate water to the bittersweet pressure of graduating, change, being strong and moving on. Enjoy!

    “I told you to stop following me!”
    “Who’re you talking to Erika?”
    “Sorry…it’s the rain. Water just won’t leave me alone.”
    “Ok well, try your best to stay dry! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

    I’ve been afraid to shower for the past few days. It may sound gross, and quite absurd, but I cannot stand the feeling of knowing it’s on me. Water I mean. I don’t like how much control it has over my state of being; how one second it can make me feel so refreshed and pure and before I know it, I’m freezing. This always happens. Water is warm for the first 15 minutes then something happens. Things change. Sometimes on its own, sometimes with a slight nudge of the faucet - Water goes from keeping me warm in all places imaginable, brushing its moisture through my hair, sending a rush of ecstasy down the small of my spine and then it snaps. It runs out of its love for me, and gives up on its ability to make me feel good. Water becomes awfully cold, leaving me bare with goose bumps like a plucked chicken. I do not enjoy things that have the ability to change my sense of being. I need to get to the bottom of this.

    I start to analyze the clear beauty with all its hidden intentions. Deodorant and perfume can only do so much, and I refuse to bathe in any alternative liquids. I need to understand this accrued hatred and figure out what exactly I despise of the formless creature. Perhaps that’s it; this is why I do not like Water. It so carelessly goes wherever it pleases, taking shape on whatever it touches. I begin to study the enemy. I transfer 8 ounces of the specimen inside a glass, and sure enough, Water becomes the glass. I cup my hands and let the water mold itself on my m-shaped crevice. Is the water implying that I am his? Why did it choose to outline my M? M as in…mine? I am not his; I will not let myself belong to something who takes such a strong hold against my own will. I am better than that.

    I begin to grow thirsty. Water is essential for life, and I love living too much to let Water take this away from me. I suppose I can give it a chance, let it work its way down my throat and settle in my body. I suppose Water and I can make amends. Jealousy is the sister of hate and I do not want to posses this quality, I am too old for such insecurities. I could probably learn a thing or two from Water. I too, want to be amorphous. I want to adapt to everything around me and be up and ready for change. I want to grasp the knowledge of being able to nurture an individual and have the ability to take it away. Though I would never do such a thing. Yes…I can learn a thing or two from Water. We are both gentle and dense, bubbly warm and strikingly cold - a bit bipolar now that I think about it, but only when necessary of course. I am going to take a shower now.