Repost. My first attempt at Writing 101 which I did not follow through. Life has other ideas.
To get started, let’s loosen up. Let’s unlock the mind. Today, take twenty minutes to free write. And don’t think about what you’ll write. Just write.
Keep typing (or scribbling, if you prefer to handwrite for this exercise) until your twenty minutes are up. It doesn’t matter if what you write is incomplete, or nonsense, or not worthy of the “Publish” button.
And for your first twist? Publish this stream-of-consciousness post on your blog.
Twenty minutes of writing…what? I really have no sense of direction now. It’s like I’m interested in everything but nothing in particular.
I love to write. I love photography. I love to read. I love to collect certain things and quotes. I love to hang out and watch TV all day. I do marathons on Netflix. I wonder about CFA. I wonder if I can be a good writer. I wonder about the syntax and errors and grammatical complexity of written words. What if I can’t do that? I wonder about the many things I wanted to do, I wonder about the places my feet are itching to wander. I wish upon cooking well, eating healthy and providing nourishment for my family.
I need to clean, but instead, I’m here, trying to get past the stage of the twenty minutes of random thoughts. I look at the tiny digital clock wishing it’s past the twenty but hey, it’s just been FIVE MINUTES.
Now, what to write about?
I have a garden that needs tending, books that call for reading, recipes that beg for cooking and laundry that demands folding. Where do I start from the handful of things that need attention?
How can one break the monotony of routine, enjoy the mundane of chores, sigh.
PROCRASTINATION irritates me. Technology made use of my time that I’ve got nothing truly done. How to break this addictive calling for techie stuff that doesn’t really need me?
Vice versa. And I still got ten more, no, nine more minutes to twenty ramblings.
The growing pile of spam mails from the mailbox, why can’t you stop? Don’t you see? If I’m ever interested in joining whatever it’s you’re offering, I’ll look for you myself. I don’t have to see you in my mailbox on a DAILY basis, PLEASE. You’re just wasting paper and my effort to pick you up and throw you back.
It’s almost time.
If I’m to re-read this, there would be a lot of changes in pursuit of proper grammar and all the technicalities that makes a good paper. So even before my need for perfection comes into place, the publish post must be clicked, not taking back any error I might do.
PROCRASTINATION. PERFECTION. DESTINATION. How do you make sense with the overwhelming feeling of things to be done? When all you want to do is type, type, type, browse, browse, browse and lose yourself in the world-wide web of uncertainties, entertainment and social networks that doesn’t do any good but make you feel miserable for not being able to do the things you must do of what’s right in front of you, tangible and waiting for you.
There. My sense of self.
Nope, I just justified my bout to procrastinate.