I feel compelled to write my thoughts down.
I feel pressure to organize my writings. External or internal pressure? Doesnt matter.
I feel pressure to organize my writing much the same way I feel pressure to organize my thinking. Like somehow the outcome will be "better" if it is organized.
The writing will be more valuable or worth more.
I'll be worth more.
These thoughts make me stop writing and start crying.
Crying makes me think of all the reasons to cry, like Chad leaving for Thailand and I sob and wail and make a rather stunning performance for the oscars if they were watching me.
Inevidently (---I just asked my mom how to spell that word. Poor spelling is another reason my writing is worth less. My mom broke the word up by saying: in. Me: "I-N." Mom: "evident." Me: "E-V-I-D-E-N-T." Mom: ly. Me: L-Y! Mom: See? You already had it! Me: I already had it already but you showed me!--- What a beautiful teacher moment)
Inevidently, -wait. shoot! I mean inevidedabuly. inevitabully-No ineveitabully. Crap. whatever.
Eventually I stop crying about how much I suck and how much better my writing could be if only I could organize (and spell) correctly. I have so many profound thoughts and I wide vocabulary that I'm unable to access. And Spell-check? Godblessit, Spell-check produces a tiny volt of annoyance each time it underlines my miss spelled words. Spell-check's just trying to be helpful but Damn, it pesters me to have to stop my flow or wait till the end of the page and go back to Right-click on all the underlined words. *sigh. Thanks for letting me get that off my chest.
So to hell with all of it.
But I still feel the need to write...
Chad says: "You should write." and I cascaded the poor guy with reasons not to write.
Reasons are as follows:
-- It's pretentious to think anyone (besides people who must, like family) would be interested in anything I write.
--Blogging is a easy way to "put myself out there" but computers have a way of consuming all of me. I wake up somewhere in Farmville or deeply grossed in the virtues of Youtube. 5 hours have passed, I'm thirsty, tired and have completely forgotten the reason for my initial computer usage.
--It's scary to "put myself out there" No. wait. That's B.S.
Its a lit of work; organization, remembering, not getting distracted, time, structure, sitting still, to "put myself out there" I'm not lazy. I dont hate work. I'm scared of the descriptors of what makes "work" work.
--I'm scared of struggling. I'm scared of making writing miserable by struggling. I'm scared of no longer being able to write because of how miserable it makes me.
--I'm scared of failing *explained above.
--I dont want to write because reading is a challenge for me. A
Anyone reading this will become frustrated with following my particular "non-linear" "non-Spellchecked" "non-senseakal" writing style. (not to mention all the usual difficulties of following the written word)
You, who are reading this are geniusiss, genui. You are intellectual wizards! You easily complete tasks that I find impossible. That makes you magic, in my mind! Rather than dwelling in my moron-isims, I marvel at your genius. I am so grateful you wizards exist here (instead of at Hogwarts all the time).
Those are the reasons I compiled from my journalling at Applebee's, and typing on the blasted computer this evening. I'm sure I'll think of more..... Can one edit posts after one publishes it?
All in all I love writing! I hate everything about it! But I truly love it.
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