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Mood: Wired
Music: Zeppelin, of course. {(See Subject)}
Thought I’d try my hand at this Journal thing. Seems like fun. I had one of those Blurty’s back in the day. Anyone remember those?
I did look my old one back up. It’s been almost 9 years or something, it was still there. The site has recently went down. So it’s pretty likely it won’t be there next time. Sort of makes me wish I had backed up everything. I got a few little tid bits off of it at least. I think it’s always interesting to go back and see where I used to be. And how much I’ve improved. Another 9 years and I’ll definitely have something to prove.
My favorite writing partner is on hiatus at the moment. He spoils me, I think. Never met an idea that scared him, that one. It’s so nice when you click instantly with a writing partner. No muss, no fuss. Just immediate understanding. No one has to tiptoe around rudeness or egos. Just a mutually beneficial partnership. Too many people believe they are superior, Lording over lesser writers like it’s some gift to write with them. All I can say is if you are here you probably Rp, and that usually means you have the same sickness as I. The need to throw your creative ideas into text and see them come alive through your words. To sit at the computer and bleed. In my opinion, that we have in common, and for that alone you have my respect. My acknowledgment of our shared disease.
Writers are very much like a sub-species of the human race. We can understand one another in a way that the ‘normal’ population will never grasp. We all share a deep-seeded yearning for creation and manipulation of the written word that can surpass even our basic survival instincts for sleep, sustenance, and social connection.
People without this need will always believe us to be mad, the oddities of our behavior will forever baffle them. But even in being cast out of the social circles that all people struggle most of their adolescence to fit into, we still refuse to be dissuaded from tossing our thoughts and imaginative ideas into the void of pen and text. Leaving ourselves open to criticism and ridicule (or, by some miracle, praise,) for the reason that we simply… must.
It’s within our blood, swimming in our veins, coursing through our souls. Crying out, screaming to gain absolute control. And we will always surrender, cracking our knuckles over a worn keyboard and continue, over and over again to pour our very selves out onto the page. We give everything to it, sacrifice all for that one moment of creative expression. We struggle to gain experience and eloquence, to become better at something that could sometimes I suppose give us fortune and fame, but will most often only leave us struggling our entire lives to keep our relationships and parental acceptance in tact.
With my partner gone I’ve been stalking BMR, looking for something to quench that fire in his absence and hopefully beyond. I’ve already met so many talented writers here and I’m having a lot of fun. That’s what matters, the fun.
I really appreciate you all that have been kindly enough to write with me.
Music: Zeppelin, of course. {(See Subject)}
Thought I’d try my hand at this Journal thing. Seems like fun. I had one of those Blurty’s back in the day. Anyone remember those?
I did look my old one back up. It’s been almost 9 years or something, it was still there. The site has recently went down. So it’s pretty likely it won’t be there next time. Sort of makes me wish I had backed up everything. I got a few little tid bits off of it at least. I think it’s always interesting to go back and see where I used to be. And how much I’ve improved. Another 9 years and I’ll definitely have something to prove.
My favorite writing partner is on hiatus at the moment. He spoils me, I think. Never met an idea that scared him, that one. It’s so nice when you click instantly with a writing partner. No muss, no fuss. Just immediate understanding. No one has to tiptoe around rudeness or egos. Just a mutually beneficial partnership. Too many people believe they are superior, Lording over lesser writers like it’s some gift to write with them. All I can say is if you are here you probably Rp, and that usually means you have the same sickness as I. The need to throw your creative ideas into text and see them come alive through your words. To sit at the computer and bleed. In my opinion, that we have in common, and for that alone you have my respect. My acknowledgment of our shared disease.
Writers are very much like a sub-species of the human race. We can understand one another in a way that the ‘normal’ population will never grasp. We all share a deep-seeded yearning for creation and manipulation of the written word that can surpass even our basic survival instincts for sleep, sustenance, and social connection.
People without this need will always believe us to be mad, the oddities of our behavior will forever baffle them. But even in being cast out of the social circles that all people struggle most of their adolescence to fit into, we still refuse to be dissuaded from tossing our thoughts and imaginative ideas into the void of pen and text. Leaving ourselves open to criticism and ridicule (or, by some miracle, praise,) for the reason that we simply… must.
It’s within our blood, swimming in our veins, coursing through our souls. Crying out, screaming to gain absolute control. And we will always surrender, cracking our knuckles over a worn keyboard and continue, over and over again to pour our very selves out onto the page. We give everything to it, sacrifice all for that one moment of creative expression. We struggle to gain experience and eloquence, to become better at something that could sometimes I suppose give us fortune and fame, but will most often only leave us struggling our entire lives to keep our relationships and parental acceptance in tact.
With my partner gone I’ve been stalking BMR, looking for something to quench that fire in his absence and hopefully beyond. I’ve already met so many talented writers here and I’m having a lot of fun. That’s what matters, the fun.
I really appreciate you all that have been kindly enough to write with me.
