The Road To Parking Your A** In The Chair Is Littered With Bad Grammar.
“This current frequency in writing and publishing in Medium is the result of dealing with the grief of losing my sister to cancer. For the last nine months with writing, I didn’t care to. Now I dare to.” (Me)
I’ve been prolific with writing over the last few days. And for the 22 followers but really just the one follower who takes pity, you have probably noticed a whole bunch of grammatical errors in what I’ve been publishing. I hope that hasn’t turned you off. It’s nice to know that someone has time to kill. But like all people with the beast of self-expression grounded in our souls, I have to write.
But in not trying to alienating you, thanks for noticing the errors, but I don’t give a shit. Sure there was a time when I worried about publishing something and finding mistakes. Later on, I panicked. But that was before I had my sister ripped away from me and the beast became grief.
So over the months, as I’ve stopped trying to feel with all sorts of self-medicating substances, I turned away from the one thing that I found my own peace of mind with, and that is what you’re reading right here.
I consider this a miracle. As I sit, punching away at the butterfly keyboard on my MAC, I’m writing. Not only is it a breakthrough in my fight with grief that I’m doing the writing, but the fact that I haven’t smashed this MAC to pieces because of their fucked up idea to change to this keyboard gives me hope.
I won’t lie. Not fixing grammatical errors really bugs the shit out of me, but I have a reason. And if I can sum up that reason in one word, that word is GOAL.
I don’t know if anyone will sit down and read this, and that’s okay. Please understand if you are one of the glorious 22, I thank you. But there is nothing profound or groundbreaking contained in the coming weeks of what I lay down.
Instead, it’s about me parking my ass in this chair and working on this shit-keyboard. It’s about me finding my way back to painting my world in words.* Words are magical. Words are the building blocks in every reality. Without words, there is no communication and no ideas, and no moving forward. And I have to move forward.
Right now, I am facing not only grief but a person that holds the key to me moving on from the loss of my sister by standing in the way of everything. I try to figure out why this guy is such an asshole, and I have concluded that he is a miserable piece of shit. I won’t call him a person because he’s not.To get my ass in the chair, I’ve set up guidelines.
- Write, finish, and edit in one hour.
- Produce at least 300 words.
The above guidelines are it. But my vision is to put my ass back in the chair and just write.
As I review what I’ve written, I know that it’s got grammatical fuck-ups everywhere. But you know what? My ass is in the chair, and there is a road to move forward on.
*Pretty deep, right?
