7 Days

I’ve been slacking off the past few days, but before that I had a nice little streak of 7 days in a row. An hour a day (more or less) of writing. I’m finally starting to make progress on establishing this habit.

I’ve been doing first-thought-best-thought, stream-of-consciousness style journaling. It’s revealing and kinda boring talking about myself to myself (not a lot going on). It’s also less challenging than trying to edit and carefully craft something. At this point though, I’m only interested in setting up a routine, and journaling is a good place to start. There’s always a thought or distraction to follow even if it’s not too original or exciting.

(Dreams have also been a good jumping off point. They’re hard to describe and full of details, perfect writing fodder.)

I think I’ll alternate between gathering and sculpting phases. Using stream-of-consciousness private journaling to cultivate the habit and then force myself to go through what I write and scrap together something coherent. And publish it.

I’m going to read through those first 7 days of writing and copy and paste and edit anything with promise that might be worth coming back to later. Anything that seems interesting or fun or potentially useful.

Here’s some sewn together scraps from my first successful week of writing:

No magic, just swinging metal till it connects and clears. Clackety-clack.

Writing is like a recorder for your thoughts. Reading your own writing is like hearing your voice for the first time on an audio recording. Nobody likes it. “Is that what I sound like!” It’s hearing the voice of your thoughts played back to you, foreign and too personal. You have to get used to the sound of your own voice before you can worry about what the voice is saying.

Typing is the teeth of talking.

Generating substance with my mind face. Looking for resonators, anything with a frequency. Something that makes a dent. The smallest difference that makes a difference – a bit. A bit of abstraction.

Rory Sutherland points out that water has no taste so we can detect impurities in it. Meaning is conveyed by what falls outside of the lines. We can’t notice what isn’t noticeable. The too-logical has no meaning, it doesn’t get seen.

How many words must a man jot down before you call him a man? How many songs must a muther-fucker write before he pens one that lands? And how many shifts of shit-work will he slog, till he gets together some better plan? The answer my friend is underneath the wind, the answer is better questions my friend.

To the tune of ‘Blowing in the Wind’ by Bob Dylan:

Sometimes you just need a spring board, a jumping on point. A hook to hang your head. Any surface will do. It doesn’t have to be flat or solid or real – it just has to be there. Nowhere or somewhere, doesn’t matter. The proof is in the proving. The pudding doesn’t exist. It’s something you step in, not something you eat. It’s a stain on your T-shirt. Freeze-framed nutrition.

lowest common phenomenon

a pose is a pose is a pose is a pose
– not exactly prose but it does have a stink to it –

A silly stance helps us see the illogical truth of what we do. Like a magic poster with an image that can only be seen askance. The way an artist sees truths that others can’t.

self addressed stamp of approval
the vacant lot of ego removal
weeds and bottles and squatting vagrants
soil the driveway of fertile pavements
growth again pushing up through the sand
congealed and frothing through cracks in the lens
five-fingered geyser erupting ringed hands
flipping of birds from belly to back
the upturned verse of words that don’t stack
the toppled alarms and unrung bells
sounding off like boards, nailing unsung spells

Human culture is a nuanced express(er) of variables. The great stochastic interpreter. Every variable feeds an expression reflecting exactly the variables that feed it. Probability mirrors outcome. Outcome mines probability. Every output has its input. Or something.

My disdain of spell check is corralling me into becoming a better speller. I’m afraid of/interested in using Grammarly for same reason. Style correction good? It might be a good way to learn better (technical) writing but also might nudge me towards worse writing (style).

Spending time editing and focusing is necessary for a well rounded practice. For now though, quantity over quality.

writing everyday without fail
an hour of time put into the pail
to fill up and brim
from forehead to chin
to catch and fix
the breaking of wind

shutup with the rhymes
do poetry another time

Humans only exist in context of each other. If a human mind only existed in a void, born into it, would it be human?

Limitation frames the doorway. There’s always a knob between the lines of the palm. Get a read on it. Push.

I don’t owe honesty anything. This is toes in the sand. No one reads this. This file is a skipping stone. This platform is clay. No words no eyes no outrage no noise. A pink quiet hum. Warm low frequency pulsating under the radar. Under the covers.

Asleep but not dreaming.

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