Word
By ice rivers
- 367 reads
Word.
When I can't write a sentence, I write a word. When I write a word, especially about writing, I confront the power of choice. Something might break loose and given the right whip, who knows what will happen despite the rain and the mud.
Maybe an unexpected keeper.
I have the opportunity to select my behavior from moment to moment which is in itself a gift. Fortunately for me, I have many choices that I am free to consider in the pursuit of my non-predetermined destiny.
For the last few days, I chose to not write. Like most choices, the choice not to write was based more on feeling than fact. I didn't feel as if I had anything worth writing and if it's not worth writing than it's damned sure not worth reading. I confess, I have readers in mind when I choose to write.
I either have something that I consider is worth the time of my readers or I don't which leads me to the conclusion that results in a decision. Choice is an opportunity. Decision is a conclusion.
Sacrifice is the result of decision. My decision not to write over the last few days sacrificed whatever embryonic impulses that I might have transformed into words that stay to describe the existence that I was selecting to ignore.
Not much of a loss to the world.
In exchange, I did what I did yesterday which wasn't much other than a contribution to inertia, entropy and dreadful analysis of such subjects as repression, suppression, anxiety, depression and outrageous fortune. Depression is the past. Repression and suppression are the present. Anxiety is the future. Since all of these subjects are deliberated every day in the churches, courts and shrink's offices around the world when we're not contradicting, one-upping, leapfrogging, bulldozing, or out and out killing one another, I came to the conclusion that there was no need for me to contribute to the general malaise as the United States becomes further disunited every day, the stock market crashes, women lose the right to choose, all of my bets are losers and a million Americans have passed away due to the plague that is still lurking around every corner.
Yeah
So I decided not to write when confronted with the choice. Who needs my bullshit?
Then as often happens, I suspended my choice and surrendered the power if not the right to write.
Maybe it was gone for good.
I couldn't even write a sentence.
So I arrived at a choice.
I'm allright, Jack.
I deliberated that choice
I decided
15 minutes ago
to
write
a
Word.
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Comments
sometimes a word is enough.
sometimes a word is enough.
John Steinbeck (1902–1968)
' The writer must believe that what he is doing is the most important thing in the world. And he must hold to this illusion even when he knows it is not true.'
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I enjoyed this, you've set
I enjoyed this, you've set things out very clearly like a great teacher. I decided not to read or write for the past few days because I felt overwhelmed and the earth's spinning made me feel sick and dizzy but reading this has reset my spinacles and cleared my head. Some of the things occurring in the US right now are terrifying. The birth rate is going to drop and if they remove women's rights then women will find another way.
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