I've been awake for a while. I'm actually nearing the end of a story I've been writing. I'm maybe a chapter away from being finished with a first draft that had gone by rather quickly, which I'm realizing now is mostly due to my cavalier style of not worrying about minor things like having any of it make sense or connecting any sentence with the next sentence.
I started fleshing out a chapter and realized writing in present tense consistently is difficult and it's pretty tough to work the bits of talking into the narrative without feeling like I'm constantly just adding on little tags like "he said" which become very much repetitive and makes me sound stupid.
I'm realizing what I need to do is ignore the urge to finish a chapter. Finishing a chapter is probably a terrible idea for me. Maybe my desire to finish a chapter is the cause of my suffering.
I'm going to pretend I invented this thought.
I suppose I'm at that point where the writing stops being a theoretical future product and can be judged on its merit which is, at the moment, not something I particularly love. I imagine this is how people feel when they start considering marriage or long term commitments of some sort. I can't help but ask myself, is this going to suck? Am I capable of making this not suck? Is there something else I could do that would not suck? Will this suck less if I ignore the possibility that it might suck and convince myself that it won't suck? Given that the majority of the world's problems are the result of people not recognizing their own delusional thinking is it responsible, or even safe for me to continue without at least acknowledging the possibility that this is going to suck? Should I have more in my life than just this? Am I endangering myself and others with my potential to suck?
I feel these are all important questions.
At times I wonder if I should have been a painter. If I were a painter I could probably just look at naked people all day and not have to worry about whether or not I suck because naked people, in my personal experience are often nice and generally very supportive.
In closing, I hate people who aren't naked.
I had intended to end this with the previous statement but I just realized that aren't isn't a word in and of itself but rather the combination of are and not. This makes perfect sense but somehow I've spent over 22 years thinking aren't was its own word, spelled for some reason with an apostrophe. This makes me feel stupid and kind of want to die a little.
