Secret Blog 4

On my mind right now are little digital characters.  I’m thinking about the letters of my sentences as they tap down to the white of my computer screen.  The way the thoughts lay down is almost snake-like.  Each letter is really a whole choice between so many other possible letters.  Why is that interesting to me right now?  I think because I’m always on that edge between the end of my writing and the big, endless blank whiteness in front of it.  That’s where a writer lives.  It’s a between place.  You’d think a writer would live somewhere else but nope.  A writer is always on a journey of tiny steps across empty pages.  I think the endless white nothingness is the scariest thing for a writer to think about.  It’s never ending!  That is both exciting and terrifying.  It’s a humbling  thought that your whole creative life hinges on your ability to suck it up and go traverse the wild white page.

I’ll get to where I want to fill it up with drizzle.  Dribble.  Fluff.  Whatever to get me to the other side (please tell me there’s another side..).  Why do whole books exist?  I see them sitting on my bookshelf here and each one was dreamed up and tapped out someway, somewhere.   Every book had to get born.  And then they are just here to look at and thumb through.  Is that unbelievable or what?  We have all these manmade records of thoughts.  In a world of such cheap daily experiences doesn’t that give you hope?  Books exist.  Real people think them up and write them down.  Some are really good.  And some human made each one.  A human like you and I.  With skin and eyes and opinions.  People can do that.  People can write books.  It’s a possibility!   Humans are capable of sitting around and watching TV and also of writing whole fascinating books!   Isn’t that just the most inspiring thing you’ve ever heard?

Can you believe we live in the world where humans write?  It happens IN OUR SOLAR SYSTEM!!  Dr. Pepper exists and people write.  What else do you really want out of life?  Wow..

I’m gonna hit the f key.   f

I’m gonna hit the r key.  r

I can hit any key I want to.  Nobody can tell me what key to hit.  4   Nobody can make me hit a certain key, I just 7 hit whichever one I want to ` when I want to.  I can talk real smooth or elegant er whateves.  Every key I hit is a decision that is going to have some consequence.  Maybe the letter or number will stay.  Maybe it will be deleted.  Maybe there will be a typo and it will survive by 4error.   Who can say really?

I feel like I have a pen and I’m running it across some paper with my eyes closed just to prove a point.  My point is that anything can go anywhere.  

That may not be profound.  I think it might be.  I don’t know.  It seems good.  It seems hopeful and dreadful at the same time.  Anything can go anywhere.  Anything can happen to whatever thing you can think of.  Is that too vague?  I don’t know.  

(I don’t know if I’m getting this across.  I’m trying to say something interesting.  I hope nobody tells me that I failed.  Maybe they won’t notice that this is stupid.  Maybe they will think it sounds smart.  That would be cool!   I wonder how long I should stretch this out.  I wonder how long I could?  Hmm… more importantly, how long would I?  Maybe not too far.  Each entry only gets a certain amount of attention after all.  I mean, you can just sit around and keep going.  There other things to do with your life than make entries in your blog.  Like sleep for one.  Don’t I feel tired?  Uh… yeah.  I didn’t have to think about that one.  Yes.  I am tired.  I could sleep.  Yes, but isn’t there value in enduring through the creative process?  Yes.  I believe so.  Yes.  The best works of ark would not exist if they were only worked on in the fling of inspiration.  There is a hard, dull, lonely desert to every creative endeavor.  There is a grit to it and a strain.  There should be.  There should be a misery to it.  At least a little.  It should feel like work.  And everybody knows how depressing and annoying work is supposed to feel.  You have to suffer through that pain, you know?  I mean, if you want to be a legitimate human.  You’ve gotta be miserable.  You’ve gotta bear the stress.  Right?  Isn’t that the way it goes?  Life is good but life is bad…  so just be thankful and suffer through the hard parts.  I guess.  

So that’s what I mean.  Life isn’t always easy.  And writing isn’t always easy either.  It’s like a metaphor, get it?  Writing is like life and vise versa.  It’s just another way to describe stuff.  Don’t you get it?)

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