As the blogathon goes into it’s ‘blah’ mode, the time where it begins to be less exciting, and more drull.
I am preparing to take over the blogathon from 4 unti who-knows-when, so I suppose I should work on making more legitimate posts.(gosh, I hope that was the right word.
But I’m unsure what to do about it. So I guess I’ll just carry on with my journalistic attempts. I won’t pretend I know what I’m doing; I was just told I had to type something in this little box and hit Publish every 30 minutes or so. They never told me anything about content.
I’d like to say, ‘being a writer, I always have an idea what to write about. I’m just a little tired, that’s all”. But that’s not the truth, and I can’t write what’s not true, even if I don’t have to worry about you seeing the stifled smirk on my face, I can’t lie comfortably.
The truth is, I am a wanna-be writer, who hasn’t even had the guts to send something to the dreaded ‘publisher’. I don’t write very often, but when I do, I have these ‘moments’, when I know I’m doing what I WANT to do, and what I am ABLE to. It’s a great feeling, that. I heard somewhere that writing is 90% procrastination; I’ve aced THAT test. Surely, I think sometimes; other writers are out there, penning and typing down things like crazy, and the ideas keep coming and coming.
But _me_, I’m sitting there, a 2 liter on my rather-flat coaster, with a dozen windows open. I’m surfing the web, slacking off, and in all honesty don’t even have my writing OUT and OPEN.
So maybe, I’m not meant for writing. Maybe in a year or two, I won’t be any good at it, and no one will publish me. But I’m still going to enjoy procrastinating; because I have my soda, and that’s fine with me for now.