“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." - Ernest Hemingway
I find that visual disturbing, to be honest, because I imagine my wrists gushing all over my laptop and ruining the glitter that's in the plastic the keys from which they are made. (Yay Asus!). Secondly I find it fascinating to think of my thoughts flowing so freely and easily as blood does, forming some profound entity that would either captivate or cause one to vomit.
What am I doing, talking about blood and puke? Ew.
I don't think Hemingway was wrong here, some of my best writing moments, that even to this day are my favorite, are things that simply spilled out of me, stuff I didn't even know was there. And I'm finding that the writing that comes the easiest and that I still like the next day is the stuff that comes most naturally.
Sometimes I feel I am working so hard to contrive EXACTLY what I want to say, or what I have prejudged to be what I want, and then afterward I discover that this is, well, pretentious. I think that my desire to write something phony is more of a fear to cover up the secrets of my brainwaves, because if I write the way I really think.....[insert irrational Lie here]; it probably wouldn't settle well with quite a few people. They might even throw up.
(Get it? Eh? Ehhh?)
I guess that also means that some would be fascinated, and it the end, that would be beautiful.
Ok, so the dude couldn't spell....."No man is an iland, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee...." -John Donne
RMVB
