Remembering why i blog, or really revisiting it, i’m determined to actually put my foot forward and to blog more often. This really has more to do with looking around at my peers or even strangers i stumble past on the Interwebs than it does with fulfilling some personal mantra. I see ’em post all the time, even if a lot of it is drivel notwithstanding since it’s still being put out there for eyes other than its originator, and i (of course) compare my paltry offerings to the writing world, look aghast then cringe and berate myself (if only i had the means of self-flogging…lol…joshing, only joshing). I need to produce and publish.
Gotta gotta gotta write write write. Daily. Published (almost) daily.
If i can Tweet or post a Facebook status, i can use 15-20 minutes to jot down 500 words. Minimally. I’m sure i’m capable of at least that much. My Stream of Consciousness writings have been a trickle when they should be a, well, stream. Somewhere in the caverns and crevices of my mind lurks a dwarf twiddling his fat thumbs, yearning to be called upon to metal out some scripture. I gotta let him loose more often. (Metal…dwarf…fantasy fans may find that to be clever…or, maybe not lol.)
With my piece on the purposeful randomness of inspiration, it was a spur-of-the-moment blurting-out of thoughts—a reaction to @ChristophNYC’s recent piece paying homage to Rachel Lou-Salome (i first learned of her reading Yalom’s When Nietzsche Wept, an excellent fictional account of Nietzsche and Lou-Salome, by the way). Striking: Lou-Salome was a muse, Valentine’s Day is encroaching upon us non-coupled-up folks; both of them together lurking under my conscious sparked some thoughts. Figured better out than in.
Gotta gotta gotta write write write. Daily. Published (almost) daily.
I’m going with: if i keep on saying it out loud, maybe one day it’ll come true. Sorta like Jesus. Or Rumplestiltskin. Or Candy Man.
Gotta gotta gotta write write write. Daily. Published (almost) daily.