This Post is Pure Drivel

It is such drivel, in fact, that if I were remotely intelligent, I probably would not post it. But, clearly I lack the brains to press delete, so, we’ll push on.

Because, sometimes, it just sucks. And that’s ok. None of us are perfect, but we do the best we can. Sometimes that best is rambling mixed metaphors that lack any apparent structure or focus.

Push on. (As a reward, there’s a cute puppy pic at the end. Yes, I’m resorting to bribery.)

I need to write. I haven’t written properly in days. Yes, I have written for 21.5.800, but not of the blog post variety, and I’m feeling a little absent.

(Absent is not actually the word I want there, but I cannot think of the one that I wanted to use. Absent will hold its place ‘till it finds its way present.)

I’m feeling a little directionless at the moment – inspiration for these words is not coming. Perhaps I should start there, yes?

Pulling these words – tugging the rope from my chest, grasping the knots one after the other after the other – pulling these words from my centre is frustrating. I so want to write well. I want to write inspirational nuggets that transcend my personal little life, but that is an overwhelming image.

It confounds me.

So, instead I am going to return to words uttered by real writers who do write well – just write. Make it a priority and get your 1,000 (or 800 as the case may be) words out of your head and down on paper … or screen.

185

That’s how many words I’ve written so far. I’ve a ways to go.

Shackles. Chain gang. Guards. (Thank you, Johnny Cash.) Words of imprisonment and contraction. Words that defy you to push back, because they taunt with their strict rigidity.

Do you feel that? Do words that evoke a loss of freedom – a harsh boundary that you dare not cross for fear of punishment or prison or peril – do they make you feel the need to rise out of your complacency, or do they crush your spirit further? Do they create or do they cramp?

I waffle. I weave my way along that chain gang with alternating inspiration and exhaustion. I dwell in the metal grey region of uncertainty.

Right now I’m feeling a bit exhausted. I don’t know what to do with my writing. I have no outlet for the frustration that I feel from the binding chain that is my current path, because the words that I am counting on aren’t coming.

This is forced. This click clacking on the keyboard is void of flow. It is all perspiration, no inspiration. It’s crap.

Does that mean I’m crap? Or simply that in this moment I am experiencing stuck. My mind is mush and mud and doesn’t want to be brilliant.

No, I’m not crap. I can write well, I can write with conviction and flow and juju. We don’t all have brilliance pouring from our veins day and night. Sometimes you just have to trudge through the marsh until you reach the other side.

442

Pick a topic. At the very least, pick a freaking topic. Focus your muck so that at least it can take some kind of shape. Even if all you manage is a lopsided clay ashtray, by focusing, at the end you’ll have a finished product. One that serves some kind of purpose.

I think that the topic that I appear to have chosen is pushing through the mental block when you don’t feel like writing. Forcing yourself to keep at it.

This post will not ever be brilliant, and it probably won’t inspire others. But, I do think that it may inspire me, when I come back to it, later. Because these ridiculous, rambling, unfocused words will remind me that at least I slogged through it. At least I created something. I practiced.

I exercised self-discipline.

I made writing a priority.

I sweat it out.

When you’re training for a marathon, or a triatholon, or a pie-eating contest, sweating it out is important. Those miles that you logged when you just didn’t think you could lift your foot one more time? They built your base.

As any runner will tell you, the base is key. Without the base, you’ve got nothing. You may be able to run a blisteringly fast 30-yard dash, but you won’t make it in the long haul. If you want to train for speed, if you want to really get better in your training, you NEED that base.

And getting the base? Sometimes, it kind of sucks.

I want to make it for the long haul. I want to write for real, but before I can start making that happen, I need to build the base. I need to be confident that I can slog it out in the trenches.

Wow, there’s a lot of crappy, mixed metaphors here. I could probably try and turn THAT into yet another unfocused aphorism, but I’ll resist. (Breathe a sigh of relief now.)

767

A jumbo jet.

Gun-metal grey.

Grasping for straws

this post is pure drivel, drizzle

slurry of sentences, stacked upon slush.

Foundation-less – less than

found

Lost on the grid:

blinking behind bars

baring it bear

naked.

And now, as promised, a pretty damn cute puppy. You’re welcome.

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