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I Stand All Amazed

This may not make sense. It's jumbled. But sometimes you just need to write. Or blog. And so you do.

I love when stories just flow out of me. When I don't have to wrack my brain and consider this and that, and wonder about the other, and then go back and make sure that everything is plausible, or realistic, or coming across the way that I want. When I just sit down, and the words just pour forth, like a cup running over.

That's been happening to me recently on some pieces I'm working on and I'm quite pleased. Interestingly, and maybe not by chance, these pieces are ones I've been doing by hand. I wrote 1600 words, and then another 1200, and then a third set I've yet to transcribe into type. But it's the old writing - the way writing used to be for me. The joy is there, and that's so, so important to me. I can't boil it down into a sure-fire recipe, but I know enough to know when I can put my thumb on it; and this is working. I hate how sloppy an…

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I got up this morning and knew that today, for the first time in about a month, I was going to work. I was going to write. And that it wasn't an April Fool's joke.

And the absolute, most infuriating thing about that is that I cannot tell you why or how today is different from yesterday. It's actually mind-boggling. If I had an inkling, then I would know for next time. I would get there faster, I would break down less, I would not waste as much energy and effort getting absolutely nothing accomplished.

And part of it may just be waiting. Everything should be balanced. Play is just as important as work. If you push and push and push to work, then you will fail. Some people have developed an ability to dig deep and "push through," but I think those people are white-knuckling and they are gonna break down. When I broke down, I just embraced it. I struggled, sure, and I said, I don't like this and I want this go away and I want to get things down and have the desi…

#nofilter

We're told social media is too happy, too idealistic, too sterilized from real life. We share triumphs, victories, achievements, celebrate and congratulate, but are we ever honest?

What about when it's hard? When it's too much? When you would do anything to get out the place where you are? Why doesn't that ever show up? Are we too afraid of appearing weak? Vulnerable? Of fishing for compliments? Support? Be brave. Courageous. How many of your virtual friends would you feel comfortable calling up when you're complete wreck, knowing that they'd stop what they're doing and rush to your aide? Two?

Depression is so hard to understand: Its causes, its symptoms, its lingering, its suffocation, its intricate interactions and interconnections with other disorders and mental health states.

Pick yourself up. Start again. Step by step. Just do a little. I want to scream.

The moments where nothing's okay and everything seems wrong and the task ahead is insurmountabl…

Newness

I wasn't sure where to put this, so it's going here. Since I cut my hair and have been trying to slowly work my way back into the Ultimate world, I've decided I need to be more serious about some things. I want to be more dedicated. I want to try harder. I want to give more.

So in light of that I wrote up some daily goals today. Writing them down is the first step to doing them. Then I did them. They are lofty, and ambitious, and I'm sure that I will fail. Many times. But failure is part of the process of building success. You don't just throw a victory banner up and celebrate because you're already done. That would involve zero effort and zero growth. Next, I will keep them. Because change isn't about one day. It's about the long run, the habit, the permanent difference. It's time to get into a routine. And then stick it, over and over and over.

No, it's not January. And tomorrow isn't even July yet (but we're close). But here's to…

Writer from the beginning

Journal Entry dated July 16, 1995*

Dear Bartholomew:

Hi again, it's just another boring day in the life of David. So from now on we'll do stories to make things better. Well here goes nothing.

}{}{}{}{}{

I'm Patrick and it's 11:00PM at night. I'm very tired but I can't sleep because my little brother won't stop sucking his thumb. I hate that SSUUCCKKing noise. Ah, finally he stopped now maybe I can get some sleep... zzzz, zzzzz.

Next Morning (A few hours later).

Hey! Pat get uupp! It's already 5:00AM. What!, I yelled as I sat up, only 5:00AM, Uh, Uh, I'm not getting up until 8:00 I said drearily as my once again shut. But, Pat we have to do paper }KLUNK! THUD were the last two things I heard before everything went black.

TO BE CONTINUED...

*Original punctuation and formatting preserved.

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I was clearly meant to be a writer, right? Laughing so hard at myself right now. #TBT

Writer

I write, therefore I am healthy.

Ender Again

First off - If you haven't read Ender's Game, do so. Second, after doing so, go see the movie. If you've done neither of those, probably don't read this.

Me writing about Ender is nothing new per se, but in some ways it is, so here we go again. Ender. Ender's Game. If you've forgotten the past, feel free to refresh yourself. This and this are my most important writings to date on Ender.

Ender and I have been an experience and journey like no other. Years we've been on this road, and now the movie adds a new layer to that. I -against all trepidations about doing so- went and saw it. I will note here (this could easily spiral out of control into its own rant-y diatribe, so I will not let it) my extreme dislike of Card as a person for his personal agenda/beliefs. His homophobia is rampant and very problematic. However, I must say that Ender is still one of the characters that hits closest to home for me -deeply, wholly, on ALL levels of who I am- and so I can…