Boy, I Could Blog Alot if I Didn't Have A Job
There is a great song by Cake. "Heads of state who ride and wrangle/ who look at your face from more than one angle/ can cut you from their bloated budgets/ like sharpened knives through chicken McNuggets."
Let us all be thankful on more than one level that those heads of state have not yet cut me and my job just yet.
Why? You ask. Because then I would be writing more blogs. And after having looked over my spotty and ineffectual career as a "blogger", I would say that my writing less on the internet is probably a good thing. I like to think that this blog is much like opening the book of my life and reading out of whatever page you land on. It's a useless and silly gesture that does nothing for anyone.
And yet, because I am a writer I have a compulsion to write. And here is the whole of the internet out before me. The largest blank page ever known to man. How could I not write? Yet the moral conundrum for any writer should always be "But is what I'm writing worth being read?"
And more often then not, whether we who write to be read like to admit it, the answer is no.
So, take time to be thankful that I have a job. Someone else with something real to say can take up just a little bit more of infinity...
But...
This will not always be the case.
I am, at this moment, formulating a way to stop working and to live like a writer. Off of someone else. I'm tired of being to tired to look at my computer screen. I'm tired of not being able to think for being so out of the habit. I don't know about any other writers and how they work, but I need time to wonder aimlessly about a room, stair at the sky and think about the nature of the color blue, lazily make tea and toast, take long and unnecessary baths, and basically think and dream away from actual writing instruments before I can wield them. I want to read news papers about theatre and get all caught up on the latest. I want to read articles by theatre critics (not theatre reviewers...critics). I want to sit down and read a whole Shakesperian play and not get up until I've read it through and through. And then I want to take a break. And then I want to read another. I want to work...but I don't want to go to the office and put in time and feel so numb. I want to say important and meaningful things when I write. Things worth reading.
For now, I'm going to work my 9-5. I'm going to save and plan. I'm going to get ready to construct a way of life.
And then I'm going to quit my job so I can really work.
Let us all be thankful on more than one level that those heads of state have not yet cut me and my job just yet.
Why? You ask. Because then I would be writing more blogs. And after having looked over my spotty and ineffectual career as a "blogger", I would say that my writing less on the internet is probably a good thing. I like to think that this blog is much like opening the book of my life and reading out of whatever page you land on. It's a useless and silly gesture that does nothing for anyone.
And yet, because I am a writer I have a compulsion to write. And here is the whole of the internet out before me. The largest blank page ever known to man. How could I not write? Yet the moral conundrum for any writer should always be "But is what I'm writing worth being read?"
And more often then not, whether we who write to be read like to admit it, the answer is no.
So, take time to be thankful that I have a job. Someone else with something real to say can take up just a little bit more of infinity...
But...
This will not always be the case.
I am, at this moment, formulating a way to stop working and to live like a writer. Off of someone else. I'm tired of being to tired to look at my computer screen. I'm tired of not being able to think for being so out of the habit. I don't know about any other writers and how they work, but I need time to wonder aimlessly about a room, stair at the sky and think about the nature of the color blue, lazily make tea and toast, take long and unnecessary baths, and basically think and dream away from actual writing instruments before I can wield them. I want to read news papers about theatre and get all caught up on the latest. I want to read articles by theatre critics (not theatre reviewers...critics). I want to sit down and read a whole Shakesperian play and not get up until I've read it through and through. And then I want to take a break. And then I want to read another. I want to work...but I don't want to go to the office and put in time and feel so numb. I want to say important and meaningful things when I write. Things worth reading.
For now, I'm going to work my 9-5. I'm going to save and plan. I'm going to get ready to construct a way of life.
And then I'm going to quit my job so I can really work.
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