AlreadyDead (psykoboy2) wrote,
AlreadyDead
psykoboy2

I Was Lucky To Know Him (10/24/2001 - 11/28/2001) :::Part X::: *Entry 4 of 4*

Wednesday, November 28, 2001

"A witty saying proves nothing."
-Voltaire


I came into the room. It was fully lit by the ceiling fan above and the floor had scattered cords and wires laying on it. It needed cleaning, so I put it off for another time. That other time would most likely end up happening during one of my mad dashes to try and get everything picked up and put away before someone was to come over. One of those types of things. Anyway, I sat in the chair at the desk and just tried to think. I wanted inspiration to come from somewhere....be it within or something else, but I couldn't find anything. I typed in the date, got up and turned off the overhead light, and then lit the candle and began to write.

Nothing. Nothing came to mind. Here I was with time to spare to actually get some writing done and I couldn't come up with anything to write about. Playing video games seemed like the better choice now. I couldn't do that though. I could pop in a game at any time, but actually having the time to write was so very precious and it doesn't come that often. The music began to swell louder and louder and it seemed as though I would be hit with a "eureka" moment, but still nothing.

I had been complemented earlier on in the day about my writing. Dana had told me that I did it wonderfully. My first reaction is disbelief, but that was my self-esteem talking. I respected her opinion and it made me feel good. Just the other day I had met an old English teacher of mine from high school. She had mentioned that a novel she had written was to be published soon. I told her of my journal exploits, mainly in the hopes that she would invite me to send them to her so she could see how my writing had come since the 7th grade. Nothing. Someone else had told me, of the first paragraph of my first entry ever, that it was one of the best first paragraph's she'd ever read and that it seemed as though it were the beginning of a novel. And to expand upon that...she's right, it was the beginning of something. Perhaps a novel, a short memoir....a journey even. One I bring each of you along with. Some of you have lived through the event in these entries and some of you have witnessed them and some of you perhaps only know me through these entries.

I often wondered what an outsider to my life would think of these things. Would they find them interesting at all since they weren't involved what so ever with anything in them. It's an experiment I may try one day. Depending on how that is received, I may even consider publishing them. I don't know on that yet though. This is still kind of personal to me, but since I am sending these out to people, I guess it isn't all that personal. So to have them published wouldn't really bother me. The only question that remains is if there's anyone out there who would bother reading them. Anyway, that pathway is a very long way down the road. Something I will continue to think about for some time now. Along with everything else that goes through my head on a day to day basis.

As he sat at his desk, his mind still wandering, he began to fall asleep. It could have been the music, or maybe he was just tired, but whatever the case, he finally decided to end his writings for the night. Unsatisfied with the outcome, he felt that it was enough for one night, especially when he went into it without anything to write about.

Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

  • 0 comments