This is my problem here. If, in the morning I get up and I don’t feel like writing I don’t write. Now maybe that seems like a normal decision. Why do something you don’t want to especially when there isn’t actually any responsibility to do it. I mean, it’s not like I’m planning on making money from this right? Well, maybe eventually that would be nice but it certainly isn’t the point. As soon as you start doing stuff for money you start to sacrifice control. Now, don’t take that as me saying the idea of making decisions based on profit is a bad thing. It is a necessary thing and honestly, even though I never have had the opportunity, I feel like I’d sell out maybe.
It’s another one of those things where, because I’ve never had to make the choice, I have no idea what choice I would make. It’s similar to how I might feel in a life threatening situation. How the heckers should I know, right? I’ve been in car accidents and gotten injured doing stuff but I’ve never actually been afraid for my life. Obviously, that’s quite a lucky thing in this world and I wouldn’t trade it for having the experience but, as is inevitable for people who don’t know and have to simply imagine, we kind of think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Like, maybe I’d learn a a lot about myself or I would have some sort of breakthrough that any therapist would be proud of. Again, the rational part of my brain says that’s all BS but humans are not rational creatures.
Don’t let anyone fool you when they say that Humans are rational creatures. I know I heard that line alot in college during philosophy classes but I honestly can’t really see it. I mean how can you describe us as rational when we knowingly make irrational decisions every day. I eat a piece of candy I know I don’t even like that much and I know it’s bad for me but I do it anyway. Just watch animals for a while. Don’t they kind of seem like they are perfectly rational. Doesn’t every single thing they do make almost an odd amount of sense.
I hate that “alot” is actually supposed to be typed out as “a lot”. That just shouldn’t be how it works. I mean, I understand that ‘a lot’ is how it originally became a thing because you were describing what you had and you had exactly one ‘lot’ I guess. But, now it’s a way to describe the number of a thing you have. I have alot of candy. I don’t even know what a ‘lot’ is unless we are talking about real estate. These are the kinds of things I dislike.
I realized the other day that sports are kinda fucked up. Don’t get me wrong here, I absolutely love sports, certain sports at least, but if you pay attention you can see that its kinda messed up right? I don’t really have anything else to say about it.
I have a great trick I’ve recently learned to get past the problem of not having anything to say. Alot of times I’ll stop myself from writing anything because I’ll feel like I have nothing to say. How could I have anything to say? I’m a nobody. Throughout my life I have continuously had this voice in the back of my head that told me I wasn’t good enough. Before you freak out and worry about me you should know that I’m only crazy maybe and I’ve never been all that down on myself, especially considering how much I have failed to live up to ‘cool’ over the course of my life. I don’t plan on telling you everything about my life, though I’m not sure why I would hesitate to reveal everything about myself. It’s not like anyone reads this or if they did it’s not like I have any dark secrets. I think one of the reasons is that I think my life seems boring so far. The key word in that sentence is ‘seems’. I have this whole thing about the word trivial. I once wrote a three page… um… essay I guess… on how a desk I had in college had a small red dot on it from a pen or a sharpie or something. There was nothing at all special about this red dot but I wrote this crazy thing about the line of humanity and the connections we have to each other that we don’t even see. It was, honestly, a pretty good piece of writing but it did feel alot like it was written by a young, inexperienced English major who is bored during an intermediate poetry class. Maybe I’ll post it some day. I don’t know.
I like the idea that nobody is reading this. Maybe I shouldn’t tell anyone about this for a while. It makes me feel far more comfortable than I usually would. I’m a type of person that really cares about how things sound when other people might hear them. I’m a teacher at heart and a true teacher cares about the way they describe things and they understand that people may not remember the details of an interaction or conversation but they remember the feelings they had, at least subconsciously. Please don’t think I’m bragging by calling myself a ‘true teacher’ because I only am a little bit. I mean, it’s what I’m best at in the world so how messed up would it be for me if I took zero pride in it? Take pride in what you’re good at. Maybe pride isn’t the perfect word since everyone always seems to say that pride is bad but to me there is a huge difference between pride and arrogance.
I realize now that I never actually told you my trick for when I have nothing to say. It’s honestly really simple and effective. Maybe it doesn’t work as well for other people as it does for me since I, like everyone else in the world, am unlike everyone else in the world. That’s a joke by the way. A true Joke.
Right, right, right. The trick. The trick is to just type literally anything at all. Start talking about the weather or what you see in the room. Literally anything at all and I’m using ‘literally’ in the literal sense just to be clear. Even writing down that you are not sure at all what to say or to write or what subject to start on, is a good start. I know its strange to say but the only part of the whole thing that’s hard is starting so just stop worrying about how it starts. You can always go back and change it later.
I know about this trick but I still haven’t had the stones to use it in writing my screenplay. That’s right, I have screenplay ideas. Why the heckers do you think I chose to be an English Major?
I’m waiting for a good ending to come up so I can stop writing but, honestly, I can’t think of anything. That happens alot.
The Mind of Joshypoo 