I DON’T WANT TO DO IT

September 27, 2014 § Leave a comment

I don’t know. I don’t want to write. I just don’t want to! And yet I do. What is it that makes this wish only exist in the future? “I want to write.” That means, for me, that in some distant, possible future, I might actually sit down and start writing. It’s a possibility. I mean, it’s totally definitive.

There. I’m finished. I forced myself to write three lines! Look up there! I wrote words! When will they be worth consideration and appreciation? Hurry up and notice my talent!!!

Still…I guess a body of text has to be a bit bigger for people to appreciate it fully. So I’ll write some more. And because I have this undeniable innate talent, it will totally be noticed somehow or other. Look, I have no issue putting words nicely one after the other, and I’m really quick at typing, too. Not that anyone on their side of the screen will notice that particular detail, but I swear, it’s true. To be honest I think you can tell by the way I write. I’m obviously writing as fast as I can think, without one spelling mistake in the process, may I point out. This is a feat that a majority of people, I’ve noticed, can’t accomplish. That’s something, isn’t it? Unfortunately there are lots of other writers in the world, I can’t be bothered competing with them. I wouldn’t have to compete with them if I knew what I was doing. Maybe if I started plagiarizing some ideas, making them better, and getting famous from that? I’ll never get famous anyway.

What if this is some kind of self-aware stream of consciousness BS part of a niche writing style? What if I’ve make a personal breakthrough in fully accepting my style of writing and ideas and just going for whatever? Although, I don’t think that using minimal to no effort can get me, personally, very far, and I honest to goodness can not be fucking bothered, to the point of moaning psychological pain and self-hatred, to point where I would actually swear in my own body of text, to sit down, plan, and write something good. Because what? Is? The? Point? IT WON’T COME TO ME! IT FUCKING WON’T! Nothing worthwhile comes to my mind and this is the only egocentric drivel I can come up with!

This is not a cry for help. This is a writing style. This is my thing and it will work! If I believe, it will, it will! It’s gotta… it’s my only writing hope…

I don’t know. I don’t want to write. I just don’t want to! And yet I do. What is it that makes this wish only exist in the future? “I want to write.” That means, for me, that in some distant, possible future, I might actually sit down and start writing. It’s a possibility. I mean, it’s totally definitive.

There. I’m finished. I forced myself to write three lines! Look up there! I wrote words! When will they be worth consideration and appreciation? Hurry up and notice my talent!!!

Still…I guess a body of text has to be a bit bigger for people to appreciate it fully. So I’ll write some more. And because I have this undeniable innate talent, it will totally be noticed somehow or other. Look, I have no issue putting words one after the other, and I’m really quick at typing, too. Not that anyone on their side of the screen will notice that particular detail, but I swear, it’s true. To be honest I think you can tell by the way I write. I’m obviously writing as fast as I can think, without one spelling mistake in the process, may I point out. This is a feat that a majority of people, I’ve noticed, can’t accomplish. That’s something, isn’t it? Unfortunately there are lots of other writers in the world, I can’t be bothered competing with them. I wouldn’t have to compete with them if I knew what I was doing. Maybe if I started plagiarizing some ideas, making them better, and getting famous from that? I’ll never get famous anyway.

What if this is some kind of self-aware stream of consciousness BS part of a niche writing style? What if I’ve make a personal breakthrough in fully accepting my style of writing and ideas and just going for whatever? Although, I don’t think that using minimal to no effort can get me, personally, very far, and I honest to goodness can not be fucking bothered, to the point of moaning psychological pain and self-hatred, to point where I would actually swear in my own body of text, to sit down, plan, and write something good. Because what? Is? The? Point? IT WON’T COME TO ME! IT FUCKING WON’T! Nothing worthwhile comes to my mind and this is the only egocentric drivel I can come up with!

This is not a cry for help. This is a writing style. This is my thing and it will work! If I believe, it will, it will! It’s gotta… it’s my only writing hope…

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