Raw Ends
Ok, so no progress on any writing today. Well I posted to three blogs (counting this one) with an actual total of about 6 post (including this one). I also commented on a few things on G+ as well, so that is sort of like writing anyway. Have you ever seen any of my comments?
So yea, well not a very productive day, and as far as most things are concerned it is really just about over. I guess I will try for a better day tomorrow, I am just too nerved up today to do anything it seems. Maybe I will look at editing some things, no, even that takes just too much calm and that is hard to come by. It took me three days of pretty intensive calming just to get myself set so I could produce what I did yesterday, and now I think it is going to take that much again. I don't know why I can not seem to write in the amid of the turmoil and stress, I used to, I used to thrive on it. Well not really, I was always calm, enhanced often by drugs and alcohol. I didn't have anything to do then either, no dogs to walk, no animals to feed, no people to please, it was just me, at the center of my own universe.
That was just it, the center of my own universe. I was centered, self centered to a degree, but centered just the same. Now I live a life that everyone else does, people, animals and all the distractions of ordinary life. I don't resent it, but it does certainly make it more of a challenge to find that inner calm that allows me to write, at least well, anyway.
One thing I noticed while I was looking through the stats on my blog (this one), is that the one post where I treat the reader to one of my old I'm an asshole and you're an idiot rants, seemed to be my most popular post by quite a bit. It will never cease to amaze me, the worse I was to the audience the more they wanted me to read. When I was doing poetry readings my most popular readings were the ones that belittled the audience. When I pointed my pen at them and said they were pathetic, and I was only trying to make them aware of this, not that I cared, in fact the less I seemed to care the more they did. I do not know if I will understand it, and if I sit here and try to analyze it too much I will most likely just get back into that position of not caring, and well, I don't know, as much as infamy is as good as fame, I guess I would now rather be known as someone who cares at least a little bit, rather than the guy that just didn't give a fuck about anything.
Thank you,
JD
So yea, well not a very productive day, and as far as most things are concerned it is really just about over. I guess I will try for a better day tomorrow, I am just too nerved up today to do anything it seems. Maybe I will look at editing some things, no, even that takes just too much calm and that is hard to come by. It took me three days of pretty intensive calming just to get myself set so I could produce what I did yesterday, and now I think it is going to take that much again. I don't know why I can not seem to write in the amid of the turmoil and stress, I used to, I used to thrive on it. Well not really, I was always calm, enhanced often by drugs and alcohol. I didn't have anything to do then either, no dogs to walk, no animals to feed, no people to please, it was just me, at the center of my own universe.
That was just it, the center of my own universe. I was centered, self centered to a degree, but centered just the same. Now I live a life that everyone else does, people, animals and all the distractions of ordinary life. I don't resent it, but it does certainly make it more of a challenge to find that inner calm that allows me to write, at least well, anyway.
One thing I noticed while I was looking through the stats on my blog (this one), is that the one post where I treat the reader to one of my old I'm an asshole and you're an idiot rants, seemed to be my most popular post by quite a bit. It will never cease to amaze me, the worse I was to the audience the more they wanted me to read. When I was doing poetry readings my most popular readings were the ones that belittled the audience. When I pointed my pen at them and said they were pathetic, and I was only trying to make them aware of this, not that I cared, in fact the less I seemed to care the more they did. I do not know if I will understand it, and if I sit here and try to analyze it too much I will most likely just get back into that position of not caring, and well, I don't know, as much as infamy is as good as fame, I guess I would now rather be known as someone who cares at least a little bit, rather than the guy that just didn't give a fuck about anything.
Thank you,
JD
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