Put New Boots On My Feet
I'm sitting here trying to figure out how to finish my paper on Rainer Maria Rilke and searching for a way to end it(I always try for reserved wit or mild humor when it comes to school papers, at least for the final paragraph). I've realized that I have no idea what I am writing and that this paper(though grammatically and structurally sound) will more than likely be utter crap. I'm not a terrible writer, my essay-writing abilities have never disappointed me in the past and I doubt I will get a grade below a B, but I've come to the conclusion that I am incapable of ending a paper. I have no idea where this reluctance comes from, but I trust that it will continue until death. Its not just school essays either, letters to friends and short stories have also fallen victim to my literary-disease. My paper will build and build, becoming a storm of words and language that goes on forever, never meeting its conclusion.
I visited the ocean on Sunday, the fog was thick and I had to wander into the wet sand to see the water pulling the shore. As we walked back toward the car the only sound was the roar of the tide in the darkness accompanied by the light from dozens of fires.
I'm still stuck
I visited the ocean on Sunday, the fog was thick and I had to wander into the wet sand to see the water pulling the shore. As we walked back toward the car the only sound was the roar of the tide in the darkness accompanied by the light from dozens of fires.
I'm still stuck