Oct 27, 2006 17:11
Every day I think of something to write down, like I'm doing now, in a blog or a story or script or some kind of creative outlet, and every day I think this thing I should write is worth keeping, worth rereading, developing, etc.
And yet I am so easily distracted.
Generally this distraction (as far as writing is concerned) is due to the writing apparatus, in this case, a computer. Most of my paper journals are full or missing; when I write on the random floatsam of blank surfaces in my bedroom, I pretty much accept the fact that I'll not see that thing again until much later, too late, probably while I'm moving out, and it will be much more likely to become trash in the frenzy.
Same goes for pretty much all my creative endeavors: I start, I fret, I restart, I muse, project grows unnecessarily complex, project abandoned until some unnamed future date. And then I am filled with shame, and try not to think about it any more.
My point is, I had something really important to say, once. Many times.
Keeping my mouth shut mocks me, and opening it damns me.
But I must say, I really enjoyed Philadelphia. [the city, i mean]