The following is fiction.
Fuckin’--fuckin’--fuckin’.. That’s a great way to start off something, right? Real dramatic, great job, man, you’re at the pinnacle of English and writing and all that crap with that. Just go get your Pulitzer, they’re waiting for you. What’s the something we’re starting? A book, a short story? Another unfinished little thoughtblab? Who knows. Fuckin’, fuckin’, right.
Writers don’t get much in this world. James Joyce, sensitive guy--for the most part, a bloody pansy. All these “sensitive writer” types, they write some amazing stuff because they have fuck all else to do--can hardly get laid, can hardly do anything right but write, right? Then, years later we read these dead men’s book and lament how such a beautiful mind never went unnoticed and all the girls who fancy themselves a sensitive poet guy who really probably wasn’t much of a sexy person at all wish they could have been there--they could have appreciated them. While the countless hordes of guys who think, “man, if only she knew what I was really like, she’d fall in love with me!” read the books, except the thing is, guys who were writing those sweet, sensitive books were, for the most part, not writing them to any damn chick. They were writing to themselves, because that’s what writers do, for the most part. That’s the difference between a story or a journal and a letter. Recipient.
There’s no recipient with writing, just people who you hope would “get it”. See, you hope to make all this stuff, try and make it honest, you hope something really great would happen, that somebody would have a great idea or revelation and tell you about it in such a way that really feels like your effort, your work was validated. Sure, that great idea or revelation might happen--but chances are, it might not be the one that you aimed for. Revelations are nice, but we want people to “get” “it”. If they do, they might not tell you, or explain it exactly. After all, most of the people who “get” “it” wouldn’t reach out--they’re stuck in their heads, just like you. So write for yourself, not other people. Writing is a kind of shit way to get your feelings out--if you want them heard, at least. Here! Read these words that I wrote on a paper! Then tell me what it makes you feel! More importantly, how do you feel about me?
Oh, fuck off. That’s as bad as those confession letters you’d want to write to your “love”. Forcing awkward semi-sentimental bullshit. You don’t do shit that way. If you show somebody your writing, you let it slide, you let it go smooth. Especially talk between smart people, or writer to writer. You digest what’s been written, you absorb and observe. Writers--people who I think are, maybe, “real” writers, people who have that voice, people who aren’t just writing to make--I don’t know, a “point”--they’re a little different in the way they deal with information. You say a few things, you say something quiet, like “I like this”, or “I appreciate this”, or you comment on how deep or whatever in a way that isn’t too exaggerated, isn’t too pretentious, isn’t too shallow, either. You show that it meant something to you--and then you sweep it under the rug. It’s like a goodbye kiss, except perhaps for hello, or how are you doing, or however the hell people communicate. I’m not saying you have to be a writer, either. It’s that vibe.
That vibe, man--that’s a good vibe. I like people with that vibe. You like people with that vibe? What person is this? Fuckin’, fuckin’, fuckin’, haha. Let’s see. Don’t write for other people. Write for yourself, because you have to--not with the intent of making other people read it. “Hi, I made this so you can notice me, notice me, read this”. Write a song or something, at least people can look forward to that. Unless you have one of those chicks that gets anxious about every damn thing, “oh no he’s going to want to talk to me” and bullshit like that. Then again, considering how society’s been doing, it only kind of figures that they act that way; have to. Well, not anymore, but they used to have to. Now they can tell people to fuck off. But frankly, we should just all be self-confident enough to not care about all that shit, just deal with people confidently and calmly. Man, socializing, it’s a good thing. Can be tricky, but it’s good. Then again, if we were so self-confident, self-assured--if we loved ourselves enough, basically, and I don’t mean masturbating--then we wouldn’t need to write. At least, we wouldn’t need to write this kind of self-absorbed shit.
I’m pretty sure there was something I was trying to get at, but I got stuck on this which was the result of that. Oh well. You know what I should do? I should write, “the following is fiction”, right at the top of this, just to fuck with people. And you’ll never know. Well, I mean, you’ll know, but you won’t. Chckchck? Get it?
Maybe I’ll post this on Facepunch or something. Dunno.
I'm not sure you should say "bloody" if you're not from England.
Very inspirational and unique writing style.
It's over-punctuated and very boring. Your redundant hyphens are the pearls on the devil's necklace.
I would much rather be with James Joyce than you.
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