Distracted Explanations (from a Gone Away Mind)

I go through stages in the way that I approach the world.  I know that is a vague statement.  Let me be more specific.  I often spend a few months gathering information, just listening, reading, drinking and letting shit roll together in my mind.  Following that will usually be a catalyzing moment, often inspired by a creative action of a friend or a blog article that makes me realize that I'm not making things of my own.  I grow restless and start writing a lot.  My info intake drops shortly and I push as much out of my brain as possible.  It's like giving birth, except completely different.  Then, when I run low on material to dump onto a page, I start to get back into trolling available sources of knowledge again.

Hmm...what's the point of writing this down?  I don't know.  Maybe I'm trying to change something about myself?  Maybe I just wanted to think about it?  

...Ah, the TV's ambient noise and light is drawing my attention.  I need to learn to turn this damn box off sometimes.  But now is not that time.  I'll be back sometime soon.

Things I Know

Here is what I know.

A man can put off his dreams indefinitely, but that doesn't mean he stops thinking about them.
It's damn near impossible to live without money.
The world is a place full of rules that I hate.
The most beautiful and important things are never the easy things.
There is an excess of hatred in the world.
There is an excess of hatred in me.
Hatred is damn near useless.
If you strive for something, people will mock you.
If you do not strive for something, people will mock you.
People like to mock others because everyone is different and people hate differences.
Mocking people for being different makes me feel better, but only if it's behind their back and they don't find out.
There are a lot of things that I don't like about myself.
Seemingly, most people are fundamentally the same.
Yes, even (and often, especially) the ones who seem fundamentally different.
Anyone who says they have no regrets is lying.
Probably to themselves.
Unless they're 5.
I wish I was 5 again.
Writing is one of the only things that makes me feel like I'm actually contributing to society.
I am terrified that I don't contribute anything to society.
Despite how we're taught to write, endings are often anticlimactic.

A Note on the New Writing Project

We are 4 weeks underway in the writing project so far. It is going well. I'm really enjoying having a short piece to work on every week and it lets me get a bit creative outside of the structured projects I already have going.

I believe we've switched gears on the new blog, I think that might take a little too much time to set up and maintain. I do believe we are going to start taking stories from this project and trying to get them published magazine side. That's my plan at least, I will give help when asked, but the others are on their own with what they do with their own writing.

So wish me luck on that.

New stories every week, nice.

New Project (52 Weeks of Writing)

I have embarked on a new project. A group of three friends will be writing 1000 word stories each week for the next year. Do cry for us, Argentina. It won't be easy balancing this with other writerly duties and work, but screw it, this is what I want for myself, I might as well make it happen. I believe I will be starting a new blog to document our progress and display some of said stories as we go. I'll post the link for that here when it is ready (probably not until the end of this month).

In the meantime I'll be writing.

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