Sometimes, I'm Insane
I don't feel like writing. I feel like napping or playing Metroid Prime.
It was a pretty day today.
Up until about 2 PM, it was a cool and sunny. In the early afternoon, it switched to balmy and cloudy. After dinner, there were a few, sudden showers.
A friend asked me if moments like that inspire me to write—or if there are moments that do.
For the most part, it's a craft to which I devote myself. I've studied. I've practiced. I seek criticism wherever I can get it. Most often, it's just plain-old hard work.
Second most often, there's a sort of internal pressure that needs to be unleashed. I feel it, and I know I have to write something—not just a measly blog post but something more poignant.
Lastly, there are sometimes when a thought or theme, a memory or feeling hit me just right; a few sentences form in my mind, and I jot them down before they flit away. If I pursue those times, they usually turn out quite well.
A lot of my poems were written at such times.
I'm not quite sure, but, for the most part it seems, I write because I have to write; my insides writhe until I write.
I gotta read the Bible more. Life, life, eternal life. Typically, I'm not surprised. Sometimes, I'm surprised at how frail I am even though I know I haven't been nourishing my soul. Dumb dumb dumb.
Sometimes, I'm insane.
So many career paths have been recommended to me. I know God can work good out of any situation, but I really want to write. I may not act like it sometimes, but I'm getting there.
I have too many stories to tell (and Tetraearth is going to be utterly amazing), but I have so much practice to practice before I can.
I get to visit my brother Aaron next week! I love all my brothers. I miss my brothers. We moved away, so now the nearest ones are about an hour away. Aaron is about three hours away. I miss my brothers.
It's a good thing I called my blog "Rambling." Otherwise, I'd have to make sense more often than not. I do of course want to make sense sometimes, but this is where I unload the jarbled bits of disorganized gobbledygook.
I once taught a small writing class. At the beginning of each class, I had the students do what I called "Brain Drain": the kids had to spend 9 minutes writing straight from their brains nonstop. We would then trash whatever pages they had scribbled and move on to diligent writing.
A few times, one of the students tried to keep whatever he had written; I told him that wasn't the objective. The objective was to garble out the miscellaneous scatterthoughts so that real writing could get done. Near the end of the class, a few students realized it improved their writing process.
All that to say, that's why I have Rambling. Occasionally, I suppose, a few gems get tangled in the garble. Who knows. Who knows.
I think it's water time and Metroid Prime time.
Shazzambo.
It was a pretty day today.
Up until about 2 PM, it was a cool and sunny. In the early afternoon, it switched to balmy and cloudy. After dinner, there were a few, sudden showers.
A friend asked me if moments like that inspire me to write—or if there are moments that do.
For the most part, it's a craft to which I devote myself. I've studied. I've practiced. I seek criticism wherever I can get it. Most often, it's just plain-old hard work.
Second most often, there's a sort of internal pressure that needs to be unleashed. I feel it, and I know I have to write something—not just a measly blog post but something more poignant.
Lastly, there are sometimes when a thought or theme, a memory or feeling hit me just right; a few sentences form in my mind, and I jot them down before they flit away. If I pursue those times, they usually turn out quite well.
A lot of my poems were written at such times.
I'm not quite sure, but, for the most part it seems, I write because I have to write; my insides writhe until I write.
I gotta read the Bible more. Life, life, eternal life. Typically, I'm not surprised. Sometimes, I'm surprised at how frail I am even though I know I haven't been nourishing my soul. Dumb dumb dumb.
Sometimes, I'm insane.
So many career paths have been recommended to me. I know God can work good out of any situation, but I really want to write. I may not act like it sometimes, but I'm getting there.
I have too many stories to tell (and Tetraearth is going to be utterly amazing), but I have so much practice to practice before I can.
I get to visit my brother Aaron next week! I love all my brothers. I miss my brothers. We moved away, so now the nearest ones are about an hour away. Aaron is about three hours away. I miss my brothers.
It's a good thing I called my blog "Rambling." Otherwise, I'd have to make sense more often than not. I do of course want to make sense sometimes, but this is where I unload the jarbled bits of disorganized gobbledygook.
I once taught a small writing class. At the beginning of each class, I had the students do what I called "Brain Drain": the kids had to spend 9 minutes writing straight from their brains nonstop. We would then trash whatever pages they had scribbled and move on to diligent writing.
A few times, one of the students tried to keep whatever he had written; I told him that wasn't the objective. The objective was to garble out the miscellaneous scatterthoughts so that real writing could get done. Near the end of the class, a few students realized it improved their writing process.
All that to say, that's why I have Rambling. Occasionally, I suppose, a few gems get tangled in the garble. Who knows. Who knows.
I think it's water time and Metroid Prime time.
Shazzambo.
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