Monday, March 12, 2007

Where the hell are my words?

Writing has always been a sore area for me.
I love to write. I sit in front of this little computer and type away at little stories and what not.
I even like to write papers of an academic nature. Back, in those college years, the only classes I received decent grades in were the ones that required something written.*

So that fact that I am staring at a blank screen and hitting the “backspace” key more often than I hit the ones with the little letters on them ah
is really starting to bother me.

I am attempting to write an essay about my future.

A future.

It’s an interesting concept.
I am often not entirely sure that I have a future. Sometimes I think about what I am going to do tomorrow and I draw a blank.
Then I think about what I did yesterday… I guess the fog goes both ways.

I am annoyed.
Freaking writer’s block.
Or rather, wanna-be writer’s block.

Allow me to explain, I have to write this essay. A rather important essay. Actually two essays.
One that could bring me something I have been attempting to attain for a while now.
One that could bring me, so long as the first one pans out, money and a wee bit of comfort.
And the ability to not live in a cardboard box next year.

Though, if I am forced to be a box dweller, I have decided on the type of box in which I would reside. I mean, if there is the chance of being all destitute and homeless, a person has to have a plan.
Schematics, you know.
I was thinking that those fun waxy fruit storage boxes would be the best kind for my type of back alley mansion. Less rain damage that way.

Anyway, back to this essays.

I can’t really tell you the purpose of these essays. The reason for the painful, brain tearing typing.
I refuse to allude to the motive until I have a piece of paper assuring that what I think is true is actually true.
Instead, I will be all cryptic and confusing. It’s just so much more fun that way.

Plus, announcements are best left to a time when they are all official, knowledgeable, and correct.
I would hate to have to retract what I think will happen on the off chance that it doesn’t.

Back to the essays.

No really, I have to get back to the essays.

*Except, of course, for those few professors that held the firm belief that sarcasm and creative asides have no place in a pedantic writing assignment.

Forget the waxy boxes, they usually have a big rectangular hole in the bottom which will let in MORE water. Go strait or stright or straight to the refrigerator boxes with a canvas pulled over the top. That's what I'm going to use when the time comes. Love ya UM
PS xoxoxox Don't forget to use spell check.
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