So, I guess that as I sit here writing my first little autobiography/fantasy I should somehow include my name, age, general appearance, likes and dislikes. But I'm the writing this, and I don't assume anyone else will be reading this, so I won't. Or I won't for your sake anyway. You being the person who isn't/ shouldn't be reading this.
Anyway, I'm siting in my bed, bored, hoping this little exercise will help cure me not only of my boredom, but of my lack of writing in my other more important stories. Like Common, the story I plan to get published, or Dead Leaves Cling to a Cedar Branch (title pending) the story I've been posting on Fanfiction.net or even My Broken Crystal Ball (Title pending) the story that Mom preferred. Hopefully, and with the grace and mercy of God this will work. And I say mercy because it is quite agonizing if not painful to watch a writer, professional or not, struggle to write. That's like watching a fish drown. It's pitiful. And I want it to be fixed.
I'm already half done with this page! It's slightly easier than I thought it would be, I mean, I still have a whole rest of the page to go, but due to my recent writers block, figured that even this simple undirected task would take hours to complete, if I even chose to complete it. I tend to get very frustrated easily, and give up, hoping to be more successful at another time or date or place. In fact, this is going so well, that I might start writing bits of my story on here since the words seem to flow so easily. But let's not get ahead of ourselves, this is only my first time writing here, I don't know if I'll stick to this. I rarely stick to anything. Piano possibly, but that's been on and off for a very long time. Sometimes I wonder if I should just stop writing, and then pick it back up, refreshed and craving the rush of thought, and the speed of my fingers typing or messy handwriting scribbled haphazardly on lines, and the sudden writers epiphany. Those I miss the most, because I marked those as special points in my story. Since I haven't had one in the longest, I feel as though my story is going nowhere, and is adrift in words that mean nothing. It's sad. Pitiful if I can reuse the word. And again, I want it fixed. But wanting... if anyone can tell you, it's me, wanting doesn't not mean you get. And it's not enough to acquire whatever it is you want. It's not, and it never will be.
Anyway, I'm siting in my bed, bored, hoping this little exercise will help cure me not only of my boredom, but of my lack of writing in my other more important stories. Like Common, the story I plan to get published, or Dead Leaves Cling to a Cedar Branch (title pending) the story I've been posting on Fanfiction.net or even My Broken Crystal Ball (Title pending) the story that Mom preferred. Hopefully, and with the grace and mercy of God this will work. And I say mercy because it is quite agonizing if not painful to watch a writer, professional or not, struggle to write. That's like watching a fish drown. It's pitiful. And I want it to be fixed.
I'm already half done with this page! It's slightly easier than I thought it would be, I mean, I still have a whole rest of the page to go, but due to my recent writers block, figured that even this simple undirected task would take hours to complete, if I even chose to complete it. I tend to get very frustrated easily, and give up, hoping to be more successful at another time or date or place. In fact, this is going so well, that I might start writing bits of my story on here since the words seem to flow so easily. But let's not get ahead of ourselves, this is only my first time writing here, I don't know if I'll stick to this. I rarely stick to anything. Piano possibly, but that's been on and off for a very long time. Sometimes I wonder if I should just stop writing, and then pick it back up, refreshed and craving the rush of thought, and the speed of my fingers typing or messy handwriting scribbled haphazardly on lines, and the sudden writers epiphany. Those I miss the most, because I marked those as special points in my story. Since I haven't had one in the longest, I feel as though my story is going nowhere, and is adrift in words that mean nothing. It's sad. Pitiful if I can reuse the word. And again, I want it fixed. But wanting... if anyone can tell you, it's me, wanting doesn't not mean you get. And it's not enough to acquire whatever it is you want. It's not, and it never will be.
