Thursday, August 5, 2010

Can't Stop Won't Stop Don't Want To Stop

It is curious how I feel right now. I feel like I have been doing a lot of writing the last couple days. It is the most interesting thing because I have been so wrapped up and distracted by so many real life endeavors. I had to move out of a house. Do a ton of cleaning to get it ready. Contact lots of bill companies to finalize accounts. Go visit my parents at their new house in Farmville. I had to pack all my things and slim down to everything that I could fit in my pack, my backpack, and my briefcase. I was definitely afraid that my real life problems would quickly override my more abstract academic writing.

But fortunately I have been able to continue writing a fair amount. It has been nice. A real pleasure. Lots of fun for me to just keep going keep stabbing keep running.

Even if I think this writing isn't good enough or it is too sloppy or it is too incomplete I feel really good about it. I really hope that when I get out West I can manage to find a job and an apartment and can support myself. Because if I could support myself then I could take so many steps to do so many different things.

If I could manage to live and feed myself and do what I wanted that would be great. It is just always fascinating to think about priorities.

Writing and living. Not sure what is what and what to do. But it is fun and odd to think that I am leaving the state and probably won't be back as a resident again. Tonight I had dinner with my sister and her friend and he asked me if I'd be back. And I didn't really know how to answer. I sorta tap danced and said a few things about well maybe this or that or something. Then my sister said something like 'you won't be back'. And it is probably true. I probably won't be back.

I don't quite understand how I feel about this state. Or why I feel like I want to leave it. I'm not sure where I feel like I belong or where I want to be. I want to explore. I want to find new experiences.

One of the major things is the contrast between my writing and my experiences. I really like to think about experience. Writing about experience is so paradoxical though.

Words cook life. Experience is raw. Experience is wordless. Experience cannot be articulated. Words remove the rawness from life. Words cook life. So is it okay that I go out and I have raw experiences then I cook them? Is it okay to talk about rawness?

I mean at the same time though words can be so raw. Words can just come out and just happen.

I'm in a huff about the relationship between my living and my writing.

I'm ready to live an exciting and dynamic sort of life. I want to do all kinds of different things. I want to meet lots of people and have lots of experiences. But I also want to keep writing. So I feel like when I get out West I need to take care of my business. I need to find a job and an apartment. I need to learn to be healthy and frugal.

And I suppose the most difficult thing in all of this, all of this future hypothetical planning, is to imagine how my moving and adapting to new circumstances will affect my writing. I bet that I will find time to write. I won't stop. And even if I have to taper off, chill out a little bit with my writing, I'll still be able to write. I'll still be able to read.

I don't need to worry. Everything will be fine. I have confidence that I will do what I need to do. And it doesn't matter that I don't know how to do it yet.

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