Writer's Block

Penis

That is all.

(why cant I make it the text bigger i fear this is some sort of cruel metaphor for something wtf tumblr)

I… feel like I was just a victim of a hit and run. I was reading an article in The New Yorker, a fascinating article about the potential relationship between Mathematics and Writing, and I figured “Papi would be interested in this.” So I get up and go mention it to him, and he expresses some interests, so we talk about. Two hours later, we’ve somehow gone from Mathematics and Writing to the relationship of logic to writing, the merits of writing for the purpose of beauty, the merits of writing for rhetoric and argument, the combination of both and the purpose of books in general. Then we got into philosophy and blah blah blah, then my sister comes home and there’s a whole NEW discussion about communism and socialism. And that continues for another hour.

I love my family. The mere knowledge they we can discuss such topics over the dinner table, literally, just gives me a sense of satisfaction and hope. I don’t socialize well because I don’t talk about common things; I’m an idea and thinking person. I’d much rather talk about the purpose of religion in our lives and discuss reasons behind it, or the book you or I read from Hemingway, Fitzgerald, or C.S. Lewis and the message behind it than the latest viral video, musical or viral video game. I mean, I do like those too, but I don’t believe they suggest any new ideas, or expand my thinking like these other topics do. And I am content with that, because there will always be someone I can talk with about those things when I come home.

Now, if my imaginary audience might excuse me, I’m gonna go finish that article!

Looking over my previous post, I’m starting to get that feeling. If there’s anything worse than a guy trying to be funny, its a guy trying too hard to be funny. But eh, the damage is done. I’m gonna try to make it a point not to edit my own posts in the future, unless there’s some special exception. Can’t just wimp out and come running back to my posts, thinking I can change them, now can I? Writing doesn’t work that way.

In other news, on to the ACTUAL POINT of the blog; writing! Now, we writers are an egotistical bunch. Well, at least some of us are. Of the percent that think their writing is crap (which I assume is a bunch), there’s also a percent that think their writing is da bomb. True, there is that modest middle ground, but screw those guys, man. Being so… middle ground. If your gonna be something, you might as well go to either extreme, amirite? And if your gonna fail at humor, you might as well do it HARD.

Anyway, I like to think of myself as the person that just “gets” English. Here I am, in English, and everyone else is struggling with the basic stuff while I’m completely done and reading a book like the arrogant douche that I am. I am one of the highest scoring students in the class, and I just look confused and say that it just comes naturally, man (to be fair, it does. But I’m too damn lazy to capitalize on it). I feel like a KING in my English class (If ya’ll wanna keep me in the balls or something right now, rest assured, so do I. I’m barely even believing what I’m typing in here! Damn, I gotta fix some issues…). 

Then, all of a sudden, a girl gets a 15 out of 10 on an assignment. FIFTEEN. Our teacher NEVER gives out extra points like that. Here I am, feeling smug that I got a 100% on my assignments, and then this classmate gets 150% instead! My ego has been shattered (I’m exaggerating, but I was both impressed and jealous at the same time). Huh. And I thought I was something special.

Point is, this girl did a much better job than I did because I’m was being arrogant and lazy. And there’s no excuse for that, both in school and out there, in the real world. I guess I’m starting to realize that talent isn’t an excuse to take it easy. Sure, I can do good in all my classes. But its not great, its not different. Its not special. And if I’m going to be making a living off of this, I better damn well think it’s special. So that’s my rant for the day. I congratulate this girl for how modest and skillful she is at writing; she never said one word of thanks, but blushed and turned away instead, embarrassed. She deserves those points, and the admiration of the class. But I also have to thank her, because she’s motivated me to kick this lazy piece of crap into high gear. And unless she’s willing to do the same, I’m going to reach her level eventually and then beyond. So watch out, fellow classmate. You’ve got competition!

It’s funny. I came up with the title in 30 seconds (not that hard to be honest) but its taken me a day and a half to even start on this god damn sentence. On the bright side, its 11:00 at night, I have school tomorrow and I’m picking now, of all times, to start my blog! Oh, Procrastination and Irresponsibility, you. You guys should really visit less often. Seriously.

I’m not gonna lie; I have no idea what I’m doing or what I’m saying. I’m a socially awkward, 17-year-old high school student who has JUST decided to become a writer. Yeah, a little late to the party, but I’m at the party nonetheless. Except… I don’t know where to start. At all. I’m starting this blog on the faint hope that it’ll get my some publicity (Your 17 you fool. Come back to reality!) and improve my writing skills (unlikely, but a man can dream) because the internet said it would. And we should always trust the internet, right kids?! /sarcasm

I know, I know. My humor is atrocious. That’s partially the reason I’m starting this blog (the others being I’m bored, I’m lonely, and I want people to pay attention to me). Honestly, I’m just a guy fumbling around in the dark here. There’s gonna be a crap load of stuff that’s gonna come and ruin my life (money’s probably gonna be one of them) and I’m barely even starting down the tunnel. But I can’t be the only person trying to make it as a writer. Hell, I must be one in thousands who want to make it, all dreaming about the same thing I am. Millions maybe. I’m not special, when you come to think about it.

But, maybe that’s a good thing. If nothing else, I’m gonna be facing the same challenges other wannabe writers are gonna face. And maybe, just maybe, I can help those other wannabes with their problems by showing them my own. So that’s the main point of this blog; a blog that talks about the problems aspiring writers face. Maybe my blunders and screw-ups can help some other guy avoid the same mistakes; maybe they wont. Who knows? All I know is that I’m fucking rambling and this first post is a piece of crap and I’m losing hours of sleep. But at least I’ve started. So, in the immortal words of Rhino, the gerbil from Bolt, “LET IT BEGIN, LET IT BEGIN.”