Why write, when I can let other things think for me?

SuperEvery day as I sit in the computer lab I face a number of choices when deciding how to spend my time.  I could write.  I could read (there is much homework to study for, certainly).  I could watch videos, play games, even chat online if I’m feeling old-school.  (do they still do chat rooms?) 

Here’s what happens over and over again:  I have a chance to do something creative and challenging.  I decide to let something else do the thinking. 

Sometimes I try to justify it by saying, “oh, it’s This American Life.  That’s intellectual.  I’m getting smarter by listening.”  Nevermind the fact that it divides my attention enough to cause my skillz in every other area to go down by as much as blix percent. 

Blix is a word that I made that means “Arbitrarily spouted number to try and prove my point.”

Sometimes I don’t even go that far.  Sometimes I turn on Pandora, then straight to the settlers online game.  Then it’s suddenly two hours later and my eyes are buzzing.   (I don’t know how else to describe the sensation.  Anybody who has played counterstrike from dusk till dawn knows the feeling.  Buzzing eyes.  They’ll back me up on this one.)

I’m calling this article a rant because all I’m doing is presenting problems without any answers.  Without even suggesting answers.  I’m selfish.  I know.

Yesterday I did something I hadn’t done in years.  (And it seems strange to say years, but it really has been.)  I started to write a story.  I found it hard.  I also found that I have either A.) lost some of my aforementioned skillz.  Or B.) My analysis skillz have increased and I therefore am more able to recognize flaws which have always existed in mah skillz.

I hope for B.  Fear A.

It’s nice to have the desire to write again.  The story has been keeping me up the past couple of nights.  I keep wondering if it could be good.  I worry that it might.  And I worry it might not.   If I feel good about it I’ll post a bit of it on here for your gentle perusal. 

Things continue on well,



One Response to “Why write, when I can let other things think for me?”

  1. Cornelius Says:

    I do nothing gently. Only with sledgehammers. But I will peruse for you if you like. I too know the feeling of not being able to write a story. I may not totally comprehend your pain since I have not at any time had the storywriting gift. I’ve told a few, but I have secret thoughts that my audience just nods it’s collective head and says, “That’s a nice story. Good for you.” We’ll never know since no one comments on things that I write. I am good at finding plotholes, pointing out stupidity, and yelling at weatherpeople who try to tell jokes when they should be telling me if it’s going to freaking rain or not. With sledgehammers. The point of this, and the one glimmer of sledgehammer-like hope I have to offer, is that being analyical is really a good thing. Being a good storywriter/teller is a good thing, but you can’t feed yourself or your family unless your good at it. It’s a narrow field of success. On the other hand, I don’t know very many high-paying jobs where they say, “We don’t really want you to have critical thinking skills or being able to reason. We think its a waste.” These new skillz of yours will enable you to be succesful in a lot of things. I have to go sledgehammer some pizzas now or I’d try to think of other things to say.

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