“Writers write”: that is what I tell myself every day because it has been hard to put more than a paragraph into a document. I start, with a concept in mind, and as I continue feelings pour out and the piece goes in a different direction.
“No, that’s not what this piece is about. Wait, what is this about?”
I push through and tell myself to worry about editing later and just get out the thoughts. This approach works for awhile, until I am interrupted by something, and by the time I get back to writing the feeling just isn’t there anymore.
Writer’s impotence. Is that a thing?
This is a test, a challenge, to just write. Do not proofread, do not edit. Just write and say what you’re trying to say. Forget contractions and dangling propositions. Fuck grammar for a moment and just spit it out.
But wait, what was this about again?…
Ignore what’s happening next to you and keep going. Deal with the consequences later. This is important, too. Shit…what was the point of this?!
Scroll back to the top and look for a reminder.
Ok, yes. I’m writing about this, this that is happening right this moment and the struggle I’ve had writing. It seems as though I’m not very adept (damn near incapable) of writing anything for myself that isn’t creative catharsis. Ugh…this tone and line of thought is not what I was planning on and I swear I was going somewhere else with this when I started. I just can’t remember where. As soon as I start getting it down, it’s all wet sand that seems to dissolve in between my fingers. Words like particles lost without me knowing they were ever there. The end product is ramblings.
This is what writing has been like lately. This.
No, I did/will not edit or proofread this.