A lot of days, I spend busily rushing to no where. I get up at the absolute latest I can to get to work on time, I go to work, where I do everything as quickly as I can so I can spend the majority of my day slacking on the internet. My job is not particularly difficult, but I’m also not exceptionally good at it. That bugs me a little, because I know there are things I am good at, that I just haven’t figured out how to turn into living expenses yet. That’s the goal really, to not have to do things I’m not good at, or that I don’t enjoy doing and yet still be able to live a comfortable, if humble existence. That’s why I write.
Ever since I was little, I’ve been gifted at imagining things. I know most children are pretty good when it comes to the imagination department, but I’ve always had a penchant for living in a completely different world than everyone else. I find myself often replaying conversations in my head, or inventing entirely new ones on a fairly regular basis. I do it so often, that I worry that people around me must think I am some kind of high functioning schizophrenic. Really, its something I have to do to be able to focus on anything.
My mind doesn’t like to sit still, which is ironic because my body is pretty happy doing just that. My brain, though, it likes to be constantly in overdrive, zipping from tangent to tangent, as it figures out all of the tricks and angles of the universe. Its not physics though, that drives my mind. I understand the basics of physics, but numbers have never been my strong suit. I prefer to dwell on abstract philosophies or possible post apocalypse survival scenarios.
I think about what I would do if an EMP took out all the world’s technology, or if zombies suddenly started eating all of my friends. I think about what it means to be an adult, or what it means to have honor in a world with a lot more grey area than the code of Chivalry would like to allow.
I spend a lot of time thinking about a lot of things I probably shouldn’t worry about, but, it doesn’t stop my brain from going a million miles a minute, or my emotions from raging up over important topics like possible war between North and South Korea or stupid, childish topics like a person getting an Apple tattoo.
I do have an irrational hatred of Steve Jobs.
Really, my mind is always just pumping out ideas, and I’m not always sure how to handle them. Some doctor would probably tell you that I have ADD or something like that. I like to think there’s nothing wrong with that. The only dangerous side of it all, is that I don’t always outlet those thoughts in a creative way. That’s why writing is so important to me. I can never focus on any other task the way I can when I’m clacking the keys of a keyboard and just pouring my dysfunctional brain train out onto the monitor.
I’d probably be a lot happier and more focused if I spent more time actually doing the writing than just imagining it all inside my head. A lot of really good fiction get wasted while I’m driving or standing in line at the grocery store. Someday, though, I’m going to find a way that I can just sit in a little 12 x 18 cabin in the middle of no where with my internet and my computer and just write for hours a day, every day…
Probably until I go completely insane. Then, then my work will be genius.