and now i find writing is increasing becoming a pain. a royal one, at that.
for a whole week now, i've been hinged on my food security story. all the madness that drove me as far as Dolpa to get a story on what i think is such a big problem, doesn't flow in writing the way it should. it gets crammed in my head in the form of too many names of all the people i interviewed. too many details.
i can't tell a feature from a story. and yet it is all so simple. the problem is "only food". (i wish i could imitate that tone.)
when so much appears on the dinner table on days like Mother's Day, i forget how many starving stomachs of humans and animals i walked past last week.
this writing thingy is painful because it doesn't make sense of so many things i've experienced, even as the only thing that does makes sense.
for a whole week now, i've been hinged on my food security story. all the madness that drove me as far as Dolpa to get a story on what i think is such a big problem, doesn't flow in writing the way it should. it gets crammed in my head in the form of too many names of all the people i interviewed. too many details.
i can't tell a feature from a story. and yet it is all so simple. the problem is "only food". (i wish i could imitate that tone.)
when so much appears on the dinner table on days like Mother's Day, i forget how many starving stomachs of humans and animals i walked past last week.
this writing thingy is painful because it doesn't make sense of so many things i've experienced, even as the only thing that does makes sense.
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