In my head

There’s been a few things floating around, I never get around to writing them. The ideas of right and wrong, culture’s mores and how defines right and wrong… Intention and deliberateness in art and writing… symbology and iconography in art, culture, etc.

I get things floating around in my head, I get ideas for sometimes long essays on the topics, and I don’t write because I have homework to do, and because I don’t necessarily want to. It’s time consuming, and I’d rather be finding some good tentacle porn on the interweb.

But float these things do, and when I have to sit here and write an essay answer to a question that is half of a lit. test that’s due wednesday, this crap floats up where I don’t need it to be. I find this annoying.

Writing is sometimes an arduous process for me. I mean, writing cleanly, succinctly, to the point… that’s tough. It takes a lot of effort on my part, because my natural inclination is to kinda ramble on, explaining my point in a number of different ways, talking about a few things only tangentially related to my point, and eventually maybe having an essay that says more than it says. I do alright in writing assignments because I know I can’t do that, so I push through that to end up at something that isn’t horrible. However, in private writing, things are different. Much more stream of consciousness kind of writing, and therefore much easier to get lost in my own prose. So I don’t do it much.

The other side of the coin, of course, is that sometimes I’m far to terse in my written communication. This tends to offend people. And since I often don’t feel like prefacing every damn thing I say with the phrase “no offense…”

There are plenty of times where the two issues combine to make something totally incomprehensible to anyone but me, else they combine to make me seem to say something I’m not as people read into what I’m writing. This is where I often find that people get largely upset with what I say. I talk about some random thing that bothers me, people assume somehow that I’m talking about them because they once or recently may have done something I may have construed as something that has bothered me, and yadda yadda yadda… people are stupid.

Right now… now I just need to get some of the cruft out of my head so that I can sit and talk about Canterbury Tales and Lanval and how they present, interrogate, and resolve ideas related to feudalism or somesuch silliness. I know what needs to be written. Starting is the hard part.

Starting is always the hard part. Like I somehow expect some huge fountain of awesomeness to come straightaway out of my brain/fingertips, no refining necessary.

Process.

This is just hard for me sometimes. Everything that I do well seems so damn intuative, that intentionally doing things that aren’t kinda leaves me wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do.

Once I’m started it’s ok.
But…
Perfectionism is something I have an issue with. Maybe you’ve seen me mention it before.
Sometimes, I somehow think this shit is supposed to just magically appear, completely perfect.
It’s not that I don’t want to put in the work, it’s that sometimes, I’m really not sure how.

Inspiration is a deadly thing to rely on. There are whole days that go by without anything cool bobbing around. Some of those days are days in which things need to be done anyway.

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