At any one time I’m going to have 2/3 drafts of mostly a bunch of gibberish that I think I can’t let you see yet. The problem is I’ll have so many ideas that if I don’t check the drafts every so often I find myself forgetting my initial thoughts. I think my mind is conspiring against me. I promised to write as regularly as possible instead i find myself starting off strongly then finishing in a trickle. Forgive the imagery but its like a stream running dry.
So I’ve been looking through my drafts..four by the way and just realized the tones are as off as my singing and I’m a terrible singer. I’ve decided in lieu of this to instead write about how hard it becomes to write at times. It’s not that you don’t have something to write ..it’s just the coordination. There’s just none. Your brain won’t agree with your heart and your feelings feel hurt that the two don’t respect each other. Then all you are left with is a few very impersonal words. It’s a very complicated relationship.
Anyway, my earlier draft. Like the one right before this one, I went on a rant about how the buzzing of mosquitoes makes me feel like my brain is on lock down. I ranted on and on and had enough to fill two long paragraphs. Imagine that! Then after I was done I realized this is the internet and I do not want to make a joke out of myself by talking about creatures I hardly know about so I stopped. I could not easily change the subject and turn around that conversation.
So now I’m seated in my room feeling the itch to write but finding it extremely difficult. Killed the mosquito by the way. Now I don’t have an excuse but I feel that admitting that I can be a dead zone even without a mosquito buzz is a good place to start.
Don’t get me wrong, my head is crawling with ideas. Some very good, others so terrible I’m afraid they even came out of me but they refuse to go past a few lines. Unless of course I decided to do a few lines then a hook that I could type over and over again.
I’m done. I’ll publish this because I’m laying my soul bare and what not and this is what my mind feels. Forget my soul. I don’t want to go there. But if I stay longer the signals in my brain will keep blinking that I need to keep my word to myself. Hopefully next time I’ll have something meaningful for you to read.