Rewrite.
I miss writing.
I miss the thrill of setting pen to paper, or, more often in this golden age of technology, fingers to keys. I miss the sense I always had that as soon as I got started, as soon as I got into the flow of the thing, all the words would come out right. Everything, or at least the majority of everything, that I said would come out in crisp, concise, perfectly complete sentences.
I could (maybe still can) write my way out of a damp paper bag, at least. But it's been a while.
Sadly, the most challenging and interesting writing I've had to do in my entire college experience seems to be behind me. Apparently, Honors Freshman Comp is as tough as it gets guys, so if you're like me, appreciate it while you've got it.
Writing is the only time I feel like that. It's the only time that I feel like I can't do anything wrong. I'm utterly competent. I know I can't spell worth shit and that I make typos all the damn time, but the words are still right. I'm still saying what I mean to say.
Life hasn't really been that way, lately. When I was writing, it seems like I was doing a better job of living, too. I was making better decisions, or making decisions, anyway. I mean, not everything was a masterpiece, and not everything turned out for the absolute best, but things were less stagnant. I hate stagnancy.
Unfortunately, and as I've discussed before, I love complacency. Well, I don't so much love it as I get sucked into it. Inherently lazy, after all.
Then again, I miss a lot of things. It's not just the writing. What happened to all the people I used to talk to? I had really branched out, for me. I had a group. I was fairly certain I even fit into it in some way. But everyone has been distant lately. Unless this is entirely my fucked up, skewed perception. And that is not without precedent.
I miss crying on a good friend's shoulder. For some reason, even though I have someone to lean on, I don't. I do all of my crying alone, these days, and there hasn't even been much of that. It's just been enough for me to notice that it's only when no one is around.
I feel stupid. I partially blame the not writing. My spelling has gotten ridiculous. The grammar is even slipping, and grammar is the basis for my entire chosen path in life. I can't say things properly anymore. I know what I'm thinking, but for once, I don't know the right words to express it. I told a friend the other day that it would be worse to fail a test than to pass it. That's right. Read it again. Let it roll around for a minute. Then mock me for the ludicrous stupidity of that statement. I think I may have even managed to fix that one, but only after a lot of stumbling all around the right words and having to cobble together the wrong ones into something like the appropriate meaning.
Why couldn't I just say "Failing this particular test carries a lot more weight than passing it would." Read that. It means something different than that other crap a managed to eventually sputter through. It actually has meaning, for starters. And it's still not even right, but Jesus. Better to pass than to fail? Brilliant, Megan. Stunning.
I'm not sure you'll grasp what I'm getting at. I'm not sure I've written this well enough for you to understand. And that's the problem. I used to be certain. If there was one thing I was ever absolutely positive on, it was that I could write anything.
There's a lot less certainty these days.
I miss the thrill of setting pen to paper, or, more often in this golden age of technology, fingers to keys. I miss the sense I always had that as soon as I got started, as soon as I got into the flow of the thing, all the words would come out right. Everything, or at least the majority of everything, that I said would come out in crisp, concise, perfectly complete sentences.
I could (maybe still can) write my way out of a damp paper bag, at least. But it's been a while.
Sadly, the most challenging and interesting writing I've had to do in my entire college experience seems to be behind me. Apparently, Honors Freshman Comp is as tough as it gets guys, so if you're like me, appreciate it while you've got it.
Writing is the only time I feel like that. It's the only time that I feel like I can't do anything wrong. I'm utterly competent. I know I can't spell worth shit and that I make typos all the damn time, but the words are still right. I'm still saying what I mean to say.
Life hasn't really been that way, lately. When I was writing, it seems like I was doing a better job of living, too. I was making better decisions, or making decisions, anyway. I mean, not everything was a masterpiece, and not everything turned out for the absolute best, but things were less stagnant. I hate stagnancy.
Unfortunately, and as I've discussed before, I love complacency. Well, I don't so much love it as I get sucked into it. Inherently lazy, after all.
Then again, I miss a lot of things. It's not just the writing. What happened to all the people I used to talk to? I had really branched out, for me. I had a group. I was fairly certain I even fit into it in some way. But everyone has been distant lately. Unless this is entirely my fucked up, skewed perception. And that is not without precedent.
I miss crying on a good friend's shoulder. For some reason, even though I have someone to lean on, I don't. I do all of my crying alone, these days, and there hasn't even been much of that. It's just been enough for me to notice that it's only when no one is around.
I feel stupid. I partially blame the not writing. My spelling has gotten ridiculous. The grammar is even slipping, and grammar is the basis for my entire chosen path in life. I can't say things properly anymore. I know what I'm thinking, but for once, I don't know the right words to express it. I told a friend the other day that it would be worse to fail a test than to pass it. That's right. Read it again. Let it roll around for a minute. Then mock me for the ludicrous stupidity of that statement. I think I may have even managed to fix that one, but only after a lot of stumbling all around the right words and having to cobble together the wrong ones into something like the appropriate meaning.
Why couldn't I just say "Failing this particular test carries a lot more weight than passing it would." Read that. It means something different than that other crap a managed to eventually sputter through. It actually has meaning, for starters. And it's still not even right, but Jesus. Better to pass than to fail? Brilliant, Megan. Stunning.
I'm not sure you'll grasp what I'm getting at. I'm not sure I've written this well enough for you to understand. And that's the problem. I used to be certain. If there was one thing I was ever absolutely positive on, it was that I could write anything.
There's a lot less certainty these days.