Posts Tagged ‘words’
What Jungle?
Each day there is less sun. That is the problem with me, with M, with me and M. UGH. I go around and around. I have this problem with misplaced optimism, hope. Periodically I think I can fix myself, my life, get “on track” somehow. I know how to do it. Know what I should do every day, what I need to do every day. For what reason I should/ought/need I’m not sure but the imperative is there. I continuously fail though, mostly via procrastination. Nothing new. This began as a letter to CCC but I think that I will be stubborn and keep it for myself. What does that even mean?
You will readily understand why people will go to any lengths to get in the film to cover themselves with any old film scrap . . junky . . narcotics agent . . thief . . informer . . anything to avoid the hopeless dead-end horror of being just who and where you all are: dying animals on a doomed planet. — William S. Burroughs, The Ticket That Exploded, 1962.
I have this problem (again with the use of that word) where there is the reality I focus on and then there is the reality I fear. And I fear what? Probably, probably what scares me is potential more than anything else. Potential rather than actual. I catch glimpses of it sometimes, of corners of my mind where I dare not… and I feel like I am treading a fine line between myself and what? Madness?
I need to take the warnings that I’ve been given by Eliot, James, Melville. That is the trap which waits for me, the beast in the jungle, not the stupid, phantasmic bullshit I fret over. I think that this November will decide it. Must decide it. The whole question of “do I write what I know I can” versus “do I write what obsesses me, what I don’t know, what I fear, what I am sure to fail at?” Read somewhere, someone said, that all writer’s block is is simple fear and that if you aren’t scared then you aren’t writing.
I have so many misgivings about this tentative non-plot. Nora Black is a Mary Sue. Nora Black is dumb. Is too close to myself. I have no idea where I’m going with it. The characters are detached in time and space for me. They have no past, no future, just a lame present AND, what? I feel very bad about it. I don’t think that it’s viable. It terrifies me. ALF is out with M. I have time in which to do this which means that I should do it. My computer is clamoring to be restarted. I think that once it has, however, that I’m going to try to get past that Burroughs quote. One of a million quotes I hide behind. First post this and probably email it to ccc after all, a diversion from the calculus.
