Immediately i am met with a restriction i do not know the answer to, i want to keep the “a” in the beginning lowercase but the document does not allow me to. A lot of my i’s are lowercase as well, which i like the look of from a visual point of view but know is incorrect from a grammatical one. The rules by which words are meant to be placed onto the page are not ones i remember too clearly, it’s been a couple of years since i was in school or really typed much in general especially in a document like this.
I really need to pee. I already pee’d, but still feel like peeing.
How does this work? I know there’s a point with some story, some detail, some combination of words that creates that image in your mind of a different place. I feel awkward typing on this keyboard, but I kind of like it because it’s something I can do with my eyes closed, letting my thoughts and eyes just kind of relax while my fingers do the rest. I heard it’s best to think of food or sandwiches while you’re improvising on an instrument such as guitar and I wonder if it’s the same for when you are writing. Or maybe it’s very different in which I should be thinking of the meaning of every word and how it adds or subtracts from the overall meaning of the piece?
I work a lot in visual mediums and in audio mediums, and I’d love to tell stories at least to an extent but have zero practice in actually doing so. I think this might be an interesting exercise in trying to improve that. Maybe I’ll work on being able to channel how my brain thinks into something more tangible that I can read back on later. I'd write this down on paper but frankly my handwriting gets atrocious very quickly and I’d rather be able to read this later on.
I love quotes, there’s so many that rattle around in my mind throughout the day. By different folk, most of which I don't remember the name of. I like them, I think maybe because I find them profound and important, I think they're almost like little treasure pieces of knowledge and a shorthand for a bigger idea or thought. Maybe I want to be the type of person that has their own set of interesting profound quotes at the end of their life that mean…s something. Maybe I try and substitute my own lack of profoundness by trying to fill that gap with the thoughts of other people, wether it be through collecting music I think is important or art I love that I know means a lot to me; or again: by quotes, I can pretend I personally have a profound depth that is entirely made up by a nest of other people’s thoughts and ideas that I’ve merely patched together into a semi-presentable collage.
I love my dog. Kodak is soft like a teddy bear and has a cozy tongue that never ever fails to make me smile even when I feel awful. When I’m lying on the couch staring down at the cushions and he comes and licks my hand to check up on me it’s always so funny. I’m looking at him in the eyes while I type this and he’s all scrunched up and sleepy and I really do love him.
My stomach hurts, but not in the pain type of way. It’s more like when it’s clenched and you can’t unclench it. I wish I could cry so badly and I’m so confused.
What am I feeling? Exactly, I think I would describe this as a scramble for what I find normal, wether that be slight toxicity, or the closest thing I have to warmth.
