Wednesday, October 7, 2009


It's been one of those weeks where I just assume that it is one day ahead of the day we are actually in. This means that these passing days are days for screw-ups and confusions with a dash of 'holy shit'.

I need a hobby that doesn't isolate me. However, I don't like meeting new people by myself. It makes me uncomfortable and puts me on edge and I only do it when I am in a situation in which I'm forced. I am not good at forcing myself to do much other than make sure that I get out of bed and into the shower before work.

Does this mean that I have no drive?

You know - I don't know. I guess that might answer that question if one wants to look deeply.

However, this mood, or rather these reflections, happen to me every time the seasons change. Though I like fall, when the night begins to come too quickly and there isn't enough sun to either warm or lift me, I become a touch maudlin. I begin to wonder whether I should reread Poe or Shelley. I dig myself deeper into my apartment and fantasize about being something or doing something that I probably never will. My fault is that I have become too attached to security. I crave it like a babe craves milk. Not really having it as a child I seek it out as an adult even if within the arms of security I'm bound to be my own destructor.

See, Maudlin.

On another note. I have started to overcome my Chapter 4 writer's block. For the past couple of years, after high school and the days that I like to call my "Golden Prolific Years", I write a story and it's good but it gets stalled at Chapter 4. That's about the same time as my confidence wavers and I begin to doubt whether 1- I can actually write well enough to get published 2 - whether anyone is interested in reading what I wrote and
3- can I actually finish this? Do I have enough faith in my characters and my ability to string sentences together to actually finish this?

I guess this time I have a little more faith than previously. So I continue with my "Zombie" story and mix in elements of horror and romance and hope that the final baked product is edible.

Mood : Indescribable
Music: In For the Kill - La Roux


  1. when i get writer's block, i eat my favorite fried fowl and some juicy watery fruit.

  2. HAHA to Dan's slurm. I have an idea for writers block. And I'm only doing this for you because you want to prank my scoundrel of a friend who ruined Halloween forever on me.
    If you wish, allow me to read what has been written so far. I will then throw ideas to you. Perhaps my ideas will spur your imagination to places you never thought of before! (I'm sure as I am one disturbed individual under this suburban dad outfit). What do you say?

  3. Chuck - I received your ideas and they are blatant plagiarism :)