I'm not your h0r. Go away and bug me no more.
Already then, New Year. Another year. Hoo-hah!!
You know, *that* minute? The Minute when you know that a depression is about to hit?
You grind your teeth while your eye started to twitch and you tell it, "NO! Not this time!!" You fight it and you try to beat it into submission. And you are so gorram tired. And your knees are weak. You hands, knuckle-white, in tight fists and you can feel your nails biting into the palm of your hands. And the pain comforts you and reminds you that you are still fighting this beastie thing. And the voice in your head keeps screaming your name like it's a new religion, like you are its only savior.
Your eyes lock and you look at it while it is breathing in your face. It's too late for fear. Adrenalin is the only thing shooting up to your brain. Adrenalin is the only thing running in your veins. Adrenalin is the only thing pumping through your heart.
Not this time, depression. You cannot have me this time!
~*~*~*~
So, all you writers out there, I have a question for you.
How do you trap your train of thoughts?
You see? I have a problem. My brain can spin out at least 2 rambles and 1 complete story lins – with plot twist, dialogue, beginning, ending, the whole cha-bang – in a minute, if you leave me in a place quiet enough that I can just let my spinning wheels go wild.
The problem is the minute I reach for a pen, my perfect stories and my perfect key-points have all vanished from my brain. "Self," I said, "why don't we get a recording thing-a-magic. We can record it faster than write it."
Yesh, in theory, this is true. I went and get a recording thing-a-magic like I suggested to myself. Well, guess what happened? Guess? Guess?!?!?
My voice puts a break on my dialogues. It's not like thinking inside your head. There something about saying things out loud that just irks my nerves and I lost the witty, clever, fantastic banters that the characters in the attic batted back and forth. Gone, all gone.
The fact that my attention span is shorter than those of the goldfish probably didn't help with the problem neither. It's not the attention-span's fault. Frankly, with all the information coming at you at the rate comparable to the bullet trains to Tokyo, exploding in from every direction, who has time to sit down and smoke a cigarette these days.
So writers – yes, this includes you if you update your blog at least once a month – help me here, what is your ways of recording your brainwave patterns?
You know, *that* minute? The Minute when you know that a depression is about to hit?
You grind your teeth while your eye started to twitch and you tell it, "NO! Not this time!!" You fight it and you try to beat it into submission. And you are so gorram tired. And your knees are weak. You hands, knuckle-white, in tight fists and you can feel your nails biting into the palm of your hands. And the pain comforts you and reminds you that you are still fighting this beastie thing. And the voice in your head keeps screaming your name like it's a new religion, like you are its only savior.
Your eyes lock and you look at it while it is breathing in your face. It's too late for fear. Adrenalin is the only thing shooting up to your brain. Adrenalin is the only thing running in your veins. Adrenalin is the only thing pumping through your heart.
Not this time, depression. You cannot have me this time!
~*~*~*~
So, all you writers out there, I have a question for you.
How do you trap your train of thoughts?
You see? I have a problem. My brain can spin out at least 2 rambles and 1 complete story lins – with plot twist, dialogue, beginning, ending, the whole cha-bang – in a minute, if you leave me in a place quiet enough that I can just let my spinning wheels go wild.
The problem is the minute I reach for a pen, my perfect stories and my perfect key-points have all vanished from my brain. "Self," I said, "why don't we get a recording thing-a-magic. We can record it faster than write it."
Yesh, in theory, this is true. I went and get a recording thing-a-magic like I suggested to myself. Well, guess what happened? Guess? Guess?!?!?
My voice puts a break on my dialogues. It's not like thinking inside your head. There something about saying things out loud that just irks my nerves and I lost the witty, clever, fantastic banters that the characters in the attic batted back and forth. Gone, all gone.
The fact that my attention span is shorter than those of the goldfish probably didn't help with the problem neither. It's not the attention-span's fault. Frankly, with all the information coming at you at the rate comparable to the bullet trains to Tokyo, exploding in from every direction, who has time to sit down and smoke a cigarette these days.
So writers – yes, this includes you if you update your blog at least once a month – help me here, what is your ways of recording your brainwave patterns?
posted by Whitney @ 6:35 PM
1 Comments:
At 12:03 AM,
Latigo Flint said…
Beeeeeeaaaarrrre!!!
Lots and lots and lots of beer.
(That and a carpet that knows you better than you know yourself. My carpet finishes most of the stories I start--far as I know anyway... I guess maybe my chair helps sometimes.)
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