When I Write the Best
August 16th, 2022
I don't like commenting on how good I am at things. I just like to do them. But, just so there isn't any room for error on the reader's part, I'll state it so:
Objectively speaking, my writing is dogshit. Very rarely do I even express some semblance of original thought amongst all the shitty mind spew that comes out into my fingers stroking the keyboard. It's all hashed together cliches. The ideas are so mundane and aren't really worth attributing any time to reading.
The writing is okay for an amateur hobbyist, but it's no where close to a professional. I can write words other people can follow and understand, and when I edit my words (of which, I rarely do, apologies,) I think the main message comes out clearly. But I have tendency to use a passive voice and abuse my lack of understanding as a crutch. I will very often use words like "maybe" and "perhaps" and nonsensical non-answers that remove me of any responsibility of arguing any of the ideas presented.
If I were going to be so uncertain of my position, why even bother writing it out? Fuck.
And I go on awful tangents all the time. It's just awful.
But at the same time, I have to try writing. For one, I feel an urge to. Two, if I am going to be alive I have got to try.
It is like trying to find the meaning of life. Yeah. I know there is no real answer to the question, and it is as futile as asking if God exists. There is not right or wrong answer, or even a vague answer at that. What makes me think that I of all people, idiotic of everyone on this planet and undeserving of anything at all, have something to say about a question that has stumped all of humanity since the dawn of the planet fucking apes?
It's idiotic for me to even try. Why even bother? I will never be anything great or big or wonderful. I continue to think of ideas everyone has thought of before and never sit down to understand anything at all!
But I know I must try anyway. Because it is my life. I have got to do something with it. Kind of like Sisyphus or whoever the fuck rolls that shitty boulder up the hill. Or like that hundredth idiotic philosopher philosophizing his or her life away. Fuck!
Anyway, what were we talking about again?
When I Write the Best
Right. I notice I write the best when I am extremely and emotionally charged. I feel a stress inside my skull that rings and bangs against the bones. When I am so deranged and unstable and have to express my feelings at the moment, that is the perfect time to put words to the paper.
Because it's times like those I feel the need to express myself as... myself, and do it so clearly. That deranged feeling I get. That frustration or happiness or whatever the fuck is so charged. That's when I feel the need to express myself and do it with utmost clarity.
Because to me, good writing makes you feel something.
Most of the shit I write doesn't make me feel anything. It's only those moments where I look back and I wrote something down during a mental breakdown do I see something that resembles gold. It's still dogshit, but hey, I like that golden dogshit.
I don't know other people. I don't understand other people that well. But I have the slightest feeling that I'm not any different than other people. So I'm going to assume here, that since I'm not any different that other people ALSO write the best when they're extremely emotional, vulnerable, and moody.
I notice that a lot of great writers, fiction or philosophical, tend to be mentally deranged in some capacity. I theorize this is the result of an extreme sensitivity to the world. I think it's only sensitive people that can really make a cutting-edge observation about this world and write something new. How else would you be able to make such a keen observation about the human condition besides being so innately connected to it that you are insane? Honestly speaking, that's the only thing overly-sensitive people are worthwhile for. Otherwise, they're a basket case of mental instability and illness.
Just looked it up. Looks like it's been a thing for a while: furor poerticus.
How to Improve Anything
Y'know, getting back to that whole thing about sucking dog cock. I just wanted to write down my thoughts on improvement.
- Realize you suck - a lot of people do get here
- Accept you suck - a lot of people are stuck here. They usually try to "self-improve" their way out of it instead of accepting that they suck dragon cock at it (nooOOOoooO0o0o0o0o!!! I don't suck!! I'm a beginnEr, whatever the FUCK that means!!! No dipshit, you're just ass. Accept it.)
- Keep doing (but actually think) - think about what sucks and try "something different" (or... you can be my dumbass and draw the same anime head in a 3/4 view 1000 times. Awesome.)
- **OPTIONAL STEP: You can read theory to figure out what that "something different" is to try, but expanding the comfort zone is more important than reading theory. In fact, if you find yourself spending more time reading theory than actually doing the thing, stop reading theory. Or, maybe it's not for you. You're the kind of guy or gal that won't really succeed at whatever you're trying to do. If you like reading theory, maybe it's time to pick reading theory as a skill you want to improve. No shame, it's what I did since I couldn't get myself to sit down and draw goddamn pictures. Fucks' sake.
Lanhful, this is the shittiest blog I've ever read. Can't you just write about your real life day-to-day activities instead of blabbering about abstract concepts that you provide no original insight on?
Yes, it's shitty. No, I don't think I will. I spent all day today playing video games. Fuck. I feel sick being a shut-in, like, like I'm going to throw-up since my knees have been against my chest for 8 hours straight and my stomach has been crushed. Tomorrow I'm probably going to go to a coffee shop or some shitty boba shop nearby and just chill there for a couple of hours.
You know, who the fuck wants to read this bullshit anyway? I doubt there's a single person out there. But just that idea that there might be is good enough for me. I need to get this horseshit out of my system, it's clogging up. I've got a backlog of 22 years of angst to get shit out into the internet.
Fuck, I need to submit internship applications. Ciao.