My Addiction


My eyes burn and struggle to see straight as my once sore hands begin to feel numb to the incessant typing.  Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick.  Eventually, I don’t even notice the sound as the words on the screen create a vivid picture.  The sky was a bright baby blue and the sun was shining, while I could feel the warmth overtake my body as a light breeze softly caressed me from the West.  I can see it all right in front of me.  I see nothing else, but the fictional land of Estancias.  I’m no longer in my living room, but wherever my words take me.

But a few moments pass and the sound from my TV comes into focus.  Snookie and the Situation are fighting about Jionni again.  Nothing new there.  I can feel a cramp in my right hand.  That’s not good.  My feet are hot so I kick the aqua green blanket off as I stretch my legs out on the burgundy sofa.  I quench my thirst with some water.  Now, there’s only about an inch left of water in my cup.  Time to look over what I’ve written.  I begin reading and I brute my forehead, while squinting my eyes.  My neck inches closer to the screen.  It all looks so blurry if I don’t concentrate.

It’s midnight and I have work in the morning.  I have no homework due the next day and everything is ready for when I have to leave to mentor my students.  The only thing left to do is sleep, so why do I do this to myself?  I know I’m going to be tired in the morning.  I know I won’t always have the luxury of going to sleep early, so why do I do it?  It’s simple.  I just can’t help it.

I have an addiction.  I am addicted to writing.  Some days I can resist the temptation and I won’t write.  These are usually the days that have been preceded by a night long writing fest on my part.  But other days I have too much to write about and my mind is overflowing with too many good ideas that I can’t let them slip away.  I absolutely have to write.  Honestly, I even feel a bit anxious when I am not near my little yellow notebook (By the way, I think it’s going to die soon).  What if a piece strikes me and I can’t write it down?  It’s terrifying to me.

This is my passion.  It’s what I love to do and I can’t neglect it.  The crazy part to all of this is that writing is therapeutic for me.  If I stay up until 1am writing I feel so much better.  Better than I would ever feel if I would have gone to sleep with a head full of ideas and an empty notebook.

You could say I need rehab.  I guess I need something, but for now I’ll stick to writing.


About Tatiana Figueroa Ramirez

Born in Puerto Rico and raised in the mainland United States, I graduated with a B.A. in English Literature from the University of Maryland, Baltimore County (UMBC) and am a 2016 VONA Voices Alumna. I currently perform spoken-word in the greater Washington D.C. area and have previously performed in Philadelphia, Miami, and the Dominican Republic. Most recently, I have been published in Public Pool, Spillwords, and The Acentos Review, and Here Comes Everyone: East & West Issue.

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