Procrastination Doesn't End After College

Not too long ago, I posted a blog about my new goals as a writer. I had ideas and plans. I even made a page with my name on it on Facebook for people to like. Well, a couple (a few) months have gone by and I am ashamed, but not surprised, to say that I have since abandoned that project in favor of multi-hour marathon Netflix watching.  I am now a pro at Netflixing, but my writing has definitely suffered at the hands of the glorious Netflix siren that sings to me when I get home from work.

I know that nothing is to blame for my procrastination except my own laziness and general apathy. I wrongly assumed that I would be much more motivated after graduating. Alas, I feel as though I am now a hundred times worse and fifty pounds heavier. Snacks are more alluring than ever and sugary soda is one of the few things I am excited for when I wake up in the morning.

What is my point in writing this? I'm honestly not sure. Maybe I feel the need to apologize to any of you who were actually waiting for me to write something. Maybe I just want to complain about myself and hope someone understands. And maybe I'm just writing this because I am too much of a procrastinator to actually work on that novel.

Sigh. *turns on Netflix* Well that's about as much writing as I can get out in one sitting nowadays. Oh good, they added new Disney Channel movies. Goodnight, I'm going to watch Princess Protection Program. Again.

And In the Beginning There Was a Writer

Here it is. All my work. Ever. All of it. In front of me. On this desk. Today begins the arduous process of going through all of this to find the good stuff. It will be a fun journey, going back through all my writing, seeing how terrible it was. And how surprisingly good it was in many ways. I'm excited to start this project and I hope you all are interested in my progress which I will be posting here. 

Notice the awesome Harry Potter journal. Just thought I'd point that out. Here's to a best seller!

NEW Poetry and Automatic Writing

Here's some NEW poetry, just written and a sample of automatic writing that I did for fun. Automatic writing is when you sit down with a pen and let anything and everything that you think of come down on the paper. It's fun and interesting, at the very least, though I don't know if it will make much sense.

Here and Now

I do not fear the infinite beings,
the powers I know not of.
My fear lies in the hearts of men,
in the here and now.
How can I look to the heavens
when the earth is being ravaged?
How can I sing praises
when innocent little lives are taken?
How can I look ahead
when so much can be learned from behind?
It matters not to me what awaits me in the after
but rather what awaits outside my front door.

Nightmare in the Light of Day

nightmare in the light of day
burning down a new frontier
spinning ghosts up in the sun
a danger to us all
blinding flashes of white hot fear
seldom seen by those alive
but felt deeper than a jagged knife
 to the heart
oh nightmare thou art terrible but great
take your terror to the dark of night
 and leave this land to the living

 
Automatic Writing

Blankly I stare at a wall hoping something will leap suddenly out at me, fly smack into my face and ignite a fire within me. Less is more. Write to heal. Kill to feel. Once they told me I was great. Never going to go there. I can tell you many things. Of what time, I cannot say. There is only one. Two can make four and I am nine. So saith the man. Take me to a new place. Paradise is ever closer. I loathe this feeling of hatred. Two fish go south. Evergreen boughs hanging. Towards the light. One second was all it took. Seven minutes. The escape was imminent. There are none left. Cry out and die. Weep for her. Turn to the sun. The road leads out. Corners pierce the sides. Miles out we decided to go. This is wrong. Go no further. Pick up the pieces of a broken wheel. Party pleads with you. Some say it's crazy. I've never heard a whale. Luck will have you. None of this works. But what does that mean? I cannot hear. Feel the way. Keep to the grass. Sound deafens you. Creep silently. The box was open. I didn't do it. Straight face. Stare me down. I feel it there. Once and gone. The purple lass took off. I will say no more. Except time. Wicked creases in the walls. Too bad for you. The block has been moved. Exit now. Veer left. This is the way we bite our tails. Hum, drum the day is done. But what makes man and wife. Super easy love. One in a billion. I never could say. Make one two. A barrel of them. Sometimes I see rain. Tell me more about you. I breathe too much. There are voices. Call me something fierce. Great words roll forth. Stop and tell me more. Serious now we all are. Turbines spinning in the dark. Ugly faces stare at me. The walls close in. Blackness falls. What a night. Uneasy. The long stretch ahead. Looming ever nearer. Tracks on a forest floor. Beaten path of song. A herd of cattle. Brains are beauty. A horse is not a cow. This is nuts. Where am I? Alone and afraid. Time will tell. Now is not the time. Understand me fully. Listen to what I said. Look and be made new. Clear your head.

Hidden Gems

Well, I know it has been a really long time since I have posted and for that I apologize. I was simply caught up in the excitement of graduating and actually knowing what it feels like to relax. I have read three books already since graduation. It is lovely to be able to enjoy reading again. I also went through my college notes and found some hidden gems of writing that I would love to share with you all. Enjoy!

Nothing and Everything

It seems unnecessary.
She stops and stares at the drops as they hit the river.
I notice the wet moss beneath me.
She turns and presents a tiny frog. It leaps from her hand and hits the water.
I am listening, not watching, not moving. I am contemplating the idea of self.
Pine trees sway, needles mixed with rain, littering the forest floor.
"Why can't you do this for me?"
I still won't acknowledge the voice, but I hear the pleading.
A bird dances across the rocks, making tiny wet tracks, dark gray upon light.
"I am nothing and everything at once."


Fleeting

And after death?
What happens then?
My "impact" on life
will disappear
as quickly as a schoolgirl crush.
My writing will be trashed,
burned,
scattered,
much like the ashes of
my useless body.
My floating spirit,
attached to nothing,
can claim no longer
these snatches of
words and phrases.

Finally!

Finally put some poetry and short stories on the website. I hope you all enjoy reading them. If you have any feedback, please feel free to tell me, I am open to suggestions and healthy criticism!

Today has been wonderful for me. I feel like I am actually working hard to do something I love. It's a great feeling to put so much effort into writing. I used to write so much that I could barely feel my hand. There were a bunch of notebooks and pages lying around my room with ideas and story lines scribbled upon them. I can't wait to do that again.

Starting Something New

Hello! I'm a writer from Kentucky trying to break into the world of fiction. I would love to share my thoughts and ideas with you on here. Please feel free to contact me and ask questions. I'm very excited to start this new phase of my life.