Writer’s block can be disastrous to even the most experienced of writers. I do not consider to be “experienced” in the least, so when writer’s block hits me, it hits hard. My technique to try and combat procrastination is to try and just write whatever comes to my brain and hope that jump starts my writing muscles. Well, this week, I kept on writing, and nothing kick started. I decided to close my eyes and just type whatever came to my brain. I looked at what I had made and saw something I thought maybe I could edit into something intelligible. That is, until I saw this quote:
"A narrator should not supply interpretations of his work; otherwise he would not have written a novel, which is a machine for generating interpretations." -Umberto Eco
While this is not a novel, and I do not really consider myself a “narrator,” I decided that I want to take this kernel of wisdom to its ultimate extreme. I am going to show you, completely unedited, and perhaps unreadable, the streams of thoughts from my brain to the keyboard. Maybe without the editing process, it will create something that the reader can emphasize more readily and become that “machine for generating interpretations.” Or perhaps it will create something something strange that I never intended to convey. With no further ado, here is the method and the madness:
Boy I am sure sleepy but I am not sure what to write about, I have a lot of things I could write about but the problem is that I haven’t developed aby any of them to actually be that good. I dunno what to do, It is connendrum, I blame the fact that I cant type wel o the foct that I have has \ad ny eyes closed then entire time I have had my lthes , Iavvppeciate how cool I \\it os honestk,. I just whish I ciukd firgeiwt wthe those.
If I tu@pe llpng enough with my eyes closed my thoughts become more streaming and ungauarded but my typing becomes worse. I am letting go of of people caring how I writed , Though I found mesek \f caring mjhc more liast time because my parents wouldn’t be a giant kubuto monset. If it fair to say that pppapay yo slipped in my brain there. It is fair because it is ture. I had a little dream there. Drea whil ei was typing
I dreamt that I dreamt that I was typing on a keyboard in the middle of a room. Oblivious to anyone watching. Boy I hope no one stymbles in and whatches me type that would be embarrassing. And I am not sure way. I think it is because I am vaery vuinerable right now. How many situations do you thing k someone wanted to escape from because they thought they were vunerable?
Not vunerable in the sense that they were in denger but vunerable just that people thought they were going to see just a little more thaan the other person was intending. Which is the victum? It it the vunerable person, the peroson who catches the act., or it it the ego which rules are being broken, I suppose there is no reason that it cant be all three but iat some point people need to distignuagish a victum; . Why is this? Does idtnentifying hwho is hurt more actually solve the problem?? Isnt there a a pretensciousness to saying that we can perceive peoples pain and theirs is worse than yours
But maybe that is denying that people are ninety eight the percent thej same and in all honestly maybe we do understand each other more than we will ever know. I hate when people say I caould never undertand their suffering because in the end the worse suffering is that no one can trule understand the pain the human heart ha to go through and that is something we can all really realte to.
I made the mistake of thinking the real meaning of this act of attempted art, and mnow my awareness is killing the purtiyt of my statement., The coffee and sweets I and consuming also make my genuine stae of self hynosis completely false. The coffee cup slowerly bunrs my arm. I don’t stop because I need to write it. I never stop beause if the passage of time steals any idea s ffrom me I feel like I am killing a little bit of myself. My breain feels like the ideas grow like flowers and instead of blooming in the night lighlike a catus they whither away so completely that I forget there was ever a flower there in the first place.
I find my analogies to be hbombastic and verbose but I love that because sometimes I think they are the only poety ru left to me
I when I was looking through my computer I found some of the poems I wrote right after I graduated college,. I was aftiread to open them because I feel like they contain a bit of myself that I want to leave behind. There are some things I need to sirrpind myself with pens pencils, paper and technbology to save, but there are other things that only with the most potent drugs and I could ever really get rid of. Those are the things that in the end aren’t really worth getting rid of I suppose. Those are the things that nake you you, or really me me. Mimi memem ears
I got up and went to the bathroom to reset my brain a bit and now I have lost my train of thought. I find myself , when I have nothing pressing to do, I find myself me mind wondering off to something an idea or most probably something frobioulous but fun loikike a bjobby, arg is my typing gotten worse? I can feel the keys slipping from me. The keys are melting away, not in the physical sense, but the image of them that I would have in my mind is fading away into nothingness.
I am sure at some point my thought process for this was that editing takes too much time and the that my lack of time has made this attempt of creativity. I am sure some, and by some I mean part of myself, and maybe tothers, think that this is out of laziness. That may be true in some subconscious sense, but creativity that arises from necessity in is the creativity that inspires me the most . I think it is because it is that neciessiry that I relate too. I find that I do not write because I want to, I write because I need to. I not only need to write but I need someboud, anybody to see what I have written. Which is why it breaks my heart when I realized haha tense mix oup there, I realized that most of the people , people in quotes, I would actually put them in quotes but thwith my eyses closed I cant see the quiotes . , the people that , well seventy five perscent of my hits on the blog are actually bots I think. It is sad, but a reality of how the internet works. The
The internet has become less of a democracy and more of a void that people try and fill up with meaning. Most of the time, the meaning people find I feel are just echos of the voices they tryied to have heard. The voices that were saying I quotes, to the world. Yes, I quouquoutes, meh. Me eye
As I hope to explain later, which to you will be ealier, the thing is that reading writing and editing all are different and important steps of the creative process and once one theing is left out the other two suffer. Maybe. I guess what I want to see is if thaey actually suffer. I can only imagine someone actually sttrying to read all of this and trying to get the meaning. It is okay. The meaning is in the form, athe meaning in is in the attempt. Not just my attempt to write it, but your attempt to read it. Reading something. Consuming something, making it resonate with you, there is an art in therthat. It is not a celebrated art, and most people I think would say it isn’t an art at all. It is the creators that should be celebrated. Somethiimes I think that only reason creative people are celebratated are because there are less of them. The poeplple who consume are the ones that deserbe something, .. because in the end tjey have to besatisfired, well, I guess have to is too strong a phrease, they have to deal with all their society wants them to hear. Often times, well, I just mean that society , especially modern society has taken too much advantage to how easy it is to force an idea in peoples faces that the ideals and way people want others to behave hasj gotten so much exposure that is it doesn’t even mean anything anymore. I don’t know why many people want me to change so many things about myself, to what I like to what I hate. Honestly, tI think that opeople relate to advertisements more now because at least they want something. Sometimes I wonder hwhen people try to force their beliefs and morals aon me if they even realize what they are doing. What do you really? Want? Dl you want me to believe what you bleive? Do you want me, or a version of me that doesn’t exist? If it doesn’t exist what do you want it? Js it control? Or is it just something that you think would make the world better? I don’t know. Which is always the problem with dealing with the subcouonscious. BTW donpeople need to stop assuming they know what goes on in peoples brains
For your information, if you ohonestly feel like you know what is going inon isin someone elses brain without meeting the person hor having any sort of study on brain on the brain, human brain mind you, then maybe you need to step back, take a breath, and try and take in the scale of the relative amount a of information a person can truly know. Itiis a sa speck of dust when compared to the universe. SO stop banin on my door!Q DHHHESH
Well, how was it? I have to admit, reading through it again, I was tempted to try and fix at least the misspellings, but I decided to leave it as is. If I learn anything from this experience, it is that I need to work on my typing skills. I should also note that I typed this on a Japanese keyboard, which I am not sure if that explains anything, I just thought you should know.
Well, it is time to get some sleep so I can start thinking on what to write next.
