Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 32

Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 32

This entry is part 25 of 32 in the series Just Write Something Damnit!

Author’s Note: If you have not read the first post in this series then all the rest will make no sense at all. Please click here to take a quick look at Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 1

Remington Standard Typewriter on desk with blank page  

Writing Every Day

I have been writing every day now for 32 days. Believe me when I tell you that is a record for me. In fact, it is the most consistent I have been with any individual thing (other than work) my entire life. If you have read all of these then you know that some of the writing has been good, and some of it has been bad. Truthfully it does not matter to me either way because the goal here was consistency and — on that count at least — so far, so good.  

What Professional Writers Recommend

The benefits are exactly what every writer who has recommended said they would be. I am one of those thick-headed individuals that need to experience something for myself before I will believe it though, and now I do. It used to take me forever to start a writing project. I would think about, rethink it, and think about it some more. Now I just start it. I’ve begun three stories in the last two weeks. One of them is a novel that is 75% outlined already! Ideas are flowing night and day — it’s like every fiber of my being is tuned to the same frequency. I would say that I wish I had set down this path sooner, but I recognize the folly in that statement. I was not ready, and it was not time. Now I am, now it is, and now I will.  
Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 32

Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 31

This entry is part 24 of 32 in the series Just Write Something Damnit!

Author’s Note: If you have not read the first post in this series then all the rest will make no sense at all. Please click here to take a quick look at Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 1

Remington Standard Typewriter on desk with blank page  

My Failure As A Writer

I wish I could write a love story, or a drama, or something that made people laugh. My failure to do so is not from lack of trying. I’ve begun the process on several occasions, only to find the story turning to the dark side shortly after beginning.  

Darkness Is All I See

Darkness is all I see when I look into my mind for a story to tell. When I have a point that I am trying to make it is always easiest to filter it through a terrible lens. I suppose its the same thing with comedians. I have tried, so very hard, to give up the terrible tales that I tell. I even wrote a post about it called From Horror To Hope. I was being honest then, and I’m being honest now — I was a fool to think I could give it up and, even more importantly, that I SHOULD give it up.  

Giving Up Horror?

The point of giving up horror was to write for God. The narrative that’s been constructed for us is that there is a certain and particular way to go about that. That narrative is wrong. A thing does not need to have the words ‘God’ or ‘spiritual’ scrawled upon it to be of a Godly or spiritual nature. It is the intent of the thing that decides its place in the universe, not the thing itself. Everything I write — even the darkest of tales — is an attempt at finding the light in the darkness. Sometimes it is so faint you can barely see it, but trust me, it’s there.
Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 32

Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 29

This entry is part 22 of 32 in the series Just Write Something Damnit!

Author’s Note: If you have not read the first post in this series then all the rest will make no sense at all. Please click here to take a quick look at Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 1

Remington Standard Typewriter on desk with blank page

When I was younger I wrote poetry fairly often. In fact, for five or six years (that I recall) that was all I wrote. Now, I have an entire box of it laying around here somewhere collecting dust.

I stopped writing it when I left college. The real world seeped into all the little cracks and crevices of my soul that desired to think poetically. I got a real job, started making real money, and forgot all about the real love of words that was beating in my chest.

Time passes, and here we are. I woke up this morning feeling all poetical and shit! So twenty years (at the very least) since the last time I composed a poem I came up with the following four stanza’s. It’s not the greatest, but I figure if I hadn’t ridden a bike in twenty years I would fall at least once when I got back on one.

 

Come one, come all
Come pleasure, come pain
Gratitude, and ‘thank you’ say I

Fly high, or fall
Blue sky, or rain
Gratitude, and ‘thank you’ say I

Open road, or wall
Bit part, or main
Gratitude, and ‘thank you’ say I

Bright rainbow, or pall
Full gait, or cane
Gratitude, and ‘thank you’ say I

Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 32

Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 1

This entry is part 1 of 32 in the series Just Write Something Damnit!

Remington Standard Typewriter on desk with blank page

 

365 Days & A Promise

The following series will (eventually) consist of 365 posts written on consecutive days. It is a challenge (and a promise) I made to myself and I intend to keep it.

Why? (Kicking & Screaming)

I have been hiding from my dreams my entire life. I can write, though I have consistently found a reason to stop myself from doing so. I came up with every excuse in the book not to pursue it as anything more than a hobby.

Finally, a couple of years ago, I decided to take the time to publish (you can find my Amazon Author page by clicking here)some things. I always loved horror and existential fiction, so that is where I started. Some of it was good, but there was no consistency to it, and I had begun a spiritual journey that was leading me away from the shock and awe aspect of horror. I struggled with what direction to take and eventually, it just faded into the background of my everyday life.

Now I have decided to write again. I am Thomas Paine, nor do I ever expect to compose the next great American novel. I simply want to write, unrestricted, about the journey I am on. This exercise is meant to drag myself by the hair—kicking and screaming if need be—out of the carefully constructed cave of programmatic bullshit I’ve been hiding in.

If I’m Being Honest

One post every day. No research, no forethought, no rewrites, no plan except to spend 20 minutes being honest every day and putting it out there. Nothing is off-limits: rants, raves, poems, story excerpts, God, politics — Nothing. A good portion of it will be shit, some of it will be good, but all of it will be meaningful.

If you choose to continue on this journey with me I appreciate it. Your time is extremely valuable so If you do not, I understand. Either way, thank you for sharing your time with me for these brief moments.

Dave

The Gray

The Gray

This entry is part 1 of 1 in the series Colors

I’m floating now in the infinite possibilities of the Gray.

The White and the Black are absolute.

The Gray is undefined.

The White and the Black are solid and stoic.

The Gray is permeable, malleable, and forgiving.

The White and the Black are each, individually, stagnant death. The annihilation of both has created the gray and I will no longer be a slave to either.

The Gray is the freedom to exist in Black and White simultaneously. It is love and hate, life and death, joy and sadness, good and evil. It is the thing feared most by the White and the Black—free will. It is the great void of life, unbound by the black and white shackles of our human perception. It is the living spirit of me here, you there, and all the time and space in between. It is the before, the after, and the soon to be…

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