Sunday, December 6, 2015

Comfortable Life

Once in a while that lovely little occurrence happens which drives me to an inevitable black hole of non-productivity: life. Life, oh dreaded mundane life. It strikes when I least expect it. Pouncing from the shadows, tempting me with it's comfort. When it happens, I grip on to whatever support I have around me, hoping I won't fall in. But it grabs me by my ankles and eventually pulls me towards the event horizon. After that, all hope is lost, and I've forgotten how I got there in the first place. Comatose and secure in the pleasantness of the black hole, I'll make it home and stay there. I'll get myself some snacks, turn on some television, load up some video games, and I'm in for the long haul. Forever forming a depression into the seat beneath me.


Sometimes this can be a good thing, especially when I need to get something done that I've neglected while in creative land, but sometimes it's a bad thing because I forget to take time for myself and the creativity I desperately need. Thus, the black hole of life persists, and before I know it I've forgotten the balance of the force. We must all use it wisely, right?

It's a tightrope act at times and it can be hard not to fall. Shutting out the noise and trying to find the time to write at lengths starts to fade. (Especially if you happen to be like me and take on many different projects.) Sometimes other things seem more interesting or more compelling enough to take up the hours you might have free that you could be writing.

But if there's one thing I've learned about jumping from project to project, it's this: a writer should always make time for writing, even if it's something small. A sentence, a paragraph, or even a crappy poem about the color of melted cheese on toast. It doesn't matter, as long as you keep the words alive somehow. (I wrote a short story on Halloween that I shared with my friends and family this year, that certainly helped with my opinion of my own productivity.)

What I'm getting at is this: if the writing bug goes on vacation and decides to sip ice tea near a tropical beach somewhere without you, leaving you crying over the blank page, always remember to never give up. Perseverance in even the smallest way will do wonders.

Don't worry, that bug will come back. It always comes back. Now that I think about it, it's more like a parasite. It needs you as much as you need it. Just, don't get too comfortable inside the black hole, or that vacation will be a permanent one for both of you.

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