Good morning, it’s finally Friday. And I’m feeling pretty motivated, so much so that I did another video blog. Ironically, it was created due to the fact of me wanting to blog, but not wanting to sit in front of a computer and type. Serious #BloggerGurlProblems, amiright?
Anyway. It’s just a short little video of me rambling. Wait, why am I spoiling this? You should just go ahead and watch it.
It’s noon, on a Friday. I was supposed to spend the morning writing but I had to rush off to work. I also couldn’t seem to get anything down on paper anyway. So, I figured it was a good time to step away from my pile of notebooks. I don’t write on the computer. Some think that’s kind of strange especially in this age of technology. However, I find it easier to beat writers block when I take things back to basics with just a pen and a clean page of paper. I also find that my streams of thoughts flow quicker and more freely when I’ve got a pen in hand. I guess I’m just old fashioned that way. I’m old fashioned in a lot of ways, but particularly when it comes to writing.
I was going to ramble on about my fears as a writer. But I think this blog post is just going to take on a life as it’s own. I’ve been sitting here reading some essays from some of my favorites like Joan Didion, and I know I’m not supposed to compare myself to other writers. So, it’s not necessarily like I’m doing that, but I’m just stuck in my head a bit about the fact that I’ve finally found my passion in life and it’s writing. But, it all happened at the age of 27. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always had an adoration for writing and reading. Even from a very young age, I always had my nose stuck in books. And I was constantly dreaming up creative stories and other lives. Some times I wish I still had all my old notebooks of writings, I feel like my imagination was so much better back then. You know before the world of cable television and the internet showed up in my life. I haven’t had internet in my home for about a week now, (because Comcast sucks) and it’s actually been quite nice. If I didn’t need to work from home so much, I’d disconnect it completely. I mean, sure I could go work at Starbucks or B&N, but I have word writing hours sometimes at like the odd hours of 3am. It wouldn’t work. I tried stealing internet from a neighbor, but I think he caught on to me. Sigh.
Back to what I was saying. I guess my fingers ran away with my thoughts. Is 28 old? I don’t really know anymore. Is it too old to be discovering ones passion at almost 30? I guess writing a book at this age feels a little daunting. I don’t know. I guess sometimes I fear it’s too late. But who am I really writing for? And why does it matter how old am I? These are the questions running through my mind right now.
I should probably just go meditate for 20 minutes.
