Why do the ideas wait until I decide to go to bed?
Why is it that I can sit for hours reading, researching, thinking, writing and having nothing to show for it and finally be so tired that I call it a night, and ONLY THEN will the ideas start to flow so quickly that I can barely (and sometimes not at all) scribble them down.
And then there’s such a sense of loss for the ones I couldn’t pen in time. Was there a real gem in there that I’ve now lost forever, or was it just so-so, and it’s okay that it’s now gone?
And even if I do get all the ideas down, there’s the agony of trying to decipher my handwriting, which is not good even on my best days and deteriorates rapidly the longer and faster I write.
Anyway, I’ve got a presentation in my English class tomorrow, and the ideas were for that and I think they’re good ones, so I’m grateful they showed up, but two hours earlier would have been nicer...
2 comments:
Now you know why I used to drink to write.
Hmmm... 'used to'... implies that you don't drink anymore, yet I know that you are still writing. What changes (if any) have you noticed in your writing and in the process of writing? Does it still flow as easily now that the rum doesn't?
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