How Do You Words?
The internet is for porn… and badly put together opinions, shoddy attempts at writing, internet memes, and goddamn pie.
There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t sit down and attempt to write something, even if all I write is a series of three sentence long paragraphs that have no relation to each other or anything I’m currently working on – or will ever work on, for that matter. The important thing is that I attempt to write.
I often find myself, however, staring at a blank word document after rushing to the laptop because I got a great idea for a story while brushing my teeth on the verge of an epic keyboard smash while screaming, “HOW DO YOU WORDS,” like I’m mentally deficient. I know for a fact I’m not the only one, but other people tend to bounce back from these episodes with more ease than I do.
Most people seem to be able to soldier through it until they start writing in a clear and cohesive manner. Me, on the other hand? I’m over here deciding if I’m ever going to even attempt to write again and, if I do, if I should change my pen name so that no one will know that whatever drivel is produced was done so by me
Yeah, it gets that bad.
Normally I try changing my playlist, selecting new music to see what it stimulates, but there are days when no music can hit exactly what I need – and trust me, I am not lacking in the music department – and I just give up and read something completely unrelated to whatever it was that I was attempting to write. I’ve actually found myself reading the Enochian dictionary in an attempt to cheer myself up after a particularly nasty writing failure. Have you ever seen the Enochian dictionary? It makes no logic; at least, not to me. But I’m used to very structured languages with thousands of words and Enochian just isn’t that kind of language (Hell, it’s constructed so you can create your own words – and boy that’s a fucking migraine in and of itself).
I have also become a veritable expert in various mythologies revolving around angels and demons because of my insane bouts of writer’s block. And you would think that with all of this ridiculous research and reading that I’ve done to thwart my block I’d actually have something to write about but no, no I don’t.
Though I could probably write you an entire thesis paper as to why, ‘douche canoe,’ and, ‘douche nozzle,’ are two of the best insults ever conceived by mankind, I can’t write a fucking short story about anything I know a lot about or that I do on a regular basis. It’s not because I lack the words to convey the knowledge. I actually find myself writing like I was getting paid by the word (a habit that drove my English and creative writing teachers up the wall when I was in high school) and I’m pretty handy with the big words. It’s more like I don’t know how to let a story enjoy a lull. I don’t know how to write a story where there is proper dialog. I want to write everything that is going on and not give the characters lines, because damn it they don’t need to say anything while they’re fucking making breakfast, okay?
I read things a lot, and I’m always left wondering how the writers actually got from point a to point b without checking themselves into an asylum at point a.126.96.36.199 because really, how do you words?