Wyatt’s Words
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I may have talked about it before (I think? Hell if I know) about writer’s block, and the best way to overcome it being incrementalism (complete one small task, and then pick up on that momentum). But what *is* writer’s block, or analysis paralysis, exactly? And why does it feel like the creative version of…
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I don’t throw things away. It always surprises people when I find a postcard they wrote me 5 years ago or a picture from college. I really don’t get rid of anything. And unfortunately that extends to clothing. As someone who’s perpetually deal-obsessed and has always been surrounded by people who love accumulating clothes, I’ve…
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Just got off the phone with my mother and weaponized her intellect towards choosing gifts. “I have no idea what these people want,” I pleaded. “Everyone likes cologne,” she proffered. Every year around this time I have what my dear friend Maggie and I like to call, “Panic at the Discount”. It comes from a…
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Most people are actually two people – the person in private and the person in public. The person in private’s more candid, describes their fears and insecurities. It’s what we consider to be the actual person. The person in public is a combination of masks, bluster, hygiene – a projection of who people want to…
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It’s a weird thing for me to admit, but I like being taken care of. Taking care of others is good too. There’s a certain joy and sense of duty in doing so. But there’s not a feeling of being complete. It’s depleting. You finish taking care of everyone else and you just kind of…
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I despise feel good claptrap like this. I read The Secret once in high school and I guess it helped me through the week I took 13 AP tests, because reading it was preferable to cramming my AP Bio text into a blender and consuming the contents orally. Still, I resented the fact that something…
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I stopped biting my nails because my boyfriend noticed. He wanted to understand why, and it was hard for me to explain. I don’t know where or why it started, but I’ve done it for as long as I remember. My mom offered me $100 once to stop. I stopped for 48 hours. I did…
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I’m not particularly skilled at manual labor. I’m terrible at giving directions to people and vacillate between being dictatorial or mute. And behind a keyboard, I’m still not particularly skilled. I channel the unrelenting monologue in my head. It could be on any given topic and at any given time, and it simply is. Writing…
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I don’t know if I have a “why” for writing what I do. I’m not a writer and I actively resist being described as such. There are real writers, it is their craft and vocation. I scribble a few words together in notes and they’re generally complaints. So no, I’m not writer. What I try…
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When I unpack my past relationships, I noticed a trend recently (okay, less than an hour ago) which I hadn’t noticed before, and that was not being good enough. I wasn’t good enough for my ex because I embarrassed him. I wasn’t good enough for another ex, because he downloaded Grindr to hook up with…