Aimless Pondering

Hmm. Never a good word to start a blog post with but it’s all I can seem to muster. As far as first words go. I’m in a little rut at the moment, a writing rut. A creative outpouring rut I guess. I find my voice while I’m in the shower, driving to work, at work, driving home from work. Yet when I sit down at the laptop to finally let it all pour out I halter. Like stage fright or not being able to pee when there’s a guy in the urinal next you. I dam up.

My fingers float aimlessly above the keys as I wait for the guy next to me to finish his piss and fuck off so I can let the magic pour freely. To stretch the metaphor: I pull out my phone and start chronicling my annoyance instead. This blog post is such an outlet. I’m hoping that by keeping my fingers active and my mind localized into stringing a slew of words together in some order that I will be able to reignite my desire.

The book. So I’ve decided to write about my trip across America by condensing what I judge were the most poignant, transformative, visceral and entertaining stories from the experience and pasting them together as chapters with the eventual hope of it resembling a novel of sorts.

But I am feeling deflated. I am feeling dumb and lazy and frustrated. My time is spent letting my brain idle, peppered with moments of self awareness where I ask myself (rhetorically) what the fuck I am doing?

This blog will be an outpouring of any attempts to keep the practise alive. I never intend for anyone to read it, gain insight, improve their life in anyway but I’m making it public nonetheless.

Happy reading

James,

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