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Day 254: Not Having Something to Say

  • Writer: ZJC
    ZJC
  • Jul 1, 2020
  • 3 min read

Lately, I have been struggling with finding a topic to write about — letting the cursor blink over my glazed eyes and hope that inspiration will strike. So they say. It has worked for me in the past, but I feel like the pool is drying up. Maybe my mind is concentrated on more concrete things. I don’t particularly enjoy writing the typical blog (that is happening now) in which I am writing a stream of consciousness about my life. The world deserves more creativity in my opinion.


I’m finding it increasingly difficult to write something creative without feeling that I am repeating myself in some way. My poetry and my philosophy are all attempting to aim at life through a simple lense. I do not want to write an epic poem, nor could I in a day. I do not want to drone on for pages about my personal life. Good blogs have a niche. My only niche is the endurance contest and the variety of styles that I experiment with. Some would say those are even lacking.


The goal of this experiment was to write something creative each day for a whole year. I’m not stopping, but I do feel the need to puke one of these reflective pieces out every once in a while. It is a substitute for journaling. That habit has dropped off significantly since I have been back in Michigan. But for a while it was time consuming: getting home past nine, having to eat dinner, write something for this blog, and then have the want to write more about myself with much subsistence. No thanks.


What I am realizing through this experiment is that I probably don’t and never truly did want to be a writer as a career. I enjoy writing when I want and I enjoy not writing when I am busy doing other things. Usually, those other things are spending time with friends, playing or listening to music, watching a movie, or reading. Writing takes passion and perseverance toward a project. This is my project and I will complete it one way or another.


There was a quote that I came across the other day: “Man suffers only because he takes seriously what the gods made for fun.” Alan Watts said that. He’s a writer with heavy Buddhist, Hindu, and Taoist influence. As do I. That quote does not encompass all of men and women’s fallacies, but it does say a lot about society. I like to tell people that we are still playing this big game of Risk and no one wants to admit it. We are all just playing a bunch of games — things that people made up to pass the time or make a dollar. Very few of us are farmers anymore. We get our food from the store and our water from the faucet. Our clothes are relatively cheap and the vast majority of us have a roof over our heads every night. In terms of basic needs, we are doing well as a species.


Life is too short to worry about accomplishments. It is better spent enjoying each day with what is in front of us. But, what is in front of us may become stale if we do not grow. Accomplishments are the list that someone reads off at our funeral. Those are only the end of our many journeys of life. The day to day trials and tribulations are but splinters from the carving of the totem. If we want to say we did something, then we focus on the splinters; the accomplishment with come in one form or another.


Without having much to say, I sure said a lot. But that’s the way these go. I can say that my rants have improved over time. They may not be as colorful as the rants I wrote on a clanking typewriter in a concrete basement with a glass of Turkey by my side, but they do the trick. There is a cohesiveness with my writing. Paragraphs are thought out. All parts are meant to connect to each other (though, this piece jagged). I could have only learned how to do these things by carving off a bunch of shitty splinters. I am thankful for those times, and I am thankful for this year, despite its global fuckery. I choose to see the growth and not the destruction. As with fire and smoke, there is always both.


Really though, I don’t have anything to say.


Author's Note #1: I apologize if that last quarter or so seemed gluttonous.


Author's Note #2: Identity through accomplishments is a slippery slope towards disappointment.


Author's Note #3:

 
 
 

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