One Thousand Words, but It’s a Hot Mess

Sometimes I think I’m over this writing thing.

That I’m sick of it. Sick of feeling guilty when I don’t write. Sick of having to think up a topic every night. Sick of pretending that I have something to say, that my thoughts are interesting and that my sentences make sense.

Sometimes I just want to read, watch tv, go to sleep, go for a walk, go shopping.

Today is one of those days.

It’s funny how cyclical this project is.

I haven’t had the guts to re-read many of my posts because I know it would be like seeing a picture of myself. I thought I looked good at the time, but I cringe when I see the photo.

Re-reading what felt like a witty, well phrased one thousand words on one night would probably make me cry on another.

But I know just from experiencing it that I have peaks of enthusiastic writing, where the words just pour out onto the page and I think that I’m well on my way to being a bestselling author.

And then there low points, where everything I write is clunky and poorly spelled. My sentences all end in prepositions and start with unnecessary introductory clauses. Where every other word is an adverb.

I think I have bi-polar writer disorder. Do they have drugs for that?

But even on the lowest day, like today, when no topics come to mind and my Might Possibly Become a Novel seems hopelessly, permanently stalled, I still try to write.

Or at least I don’t give up completely. I compose some silly little post about why I’m not writing the full one thousand words, and obsess on what percentage of my posts are “Less Than One Thousand Words” and what I failure I am.

But I haven’t thrown in the towel, or the keyboard, and said, “I quit.”

That counts for something, right?

Have I ever told you about my partner in this project? The one who has been there for every single post and never judges, although she does correct my spelling and my typos which can be a little irritating?

I’m talking about Tink, my netbook.

Why is she called Tink, you ask?

Well, when you power her off, she makes a little sound. Sort of a “tink” noise. So I just started calling her Tink casually.

Then I came across a Tinkerbell sticker in a craft store, complete with glittery wings and slippers. I put it on her lid, and it became official. She was Tink.

Tink and I have had our fair share of problems.

For a while, she wouldn’t turn on unless I shook her.

I was worried that it was the beginning of the end. She wasn’t that expensive and I’ve had her for several years now, so it wouldn’t be a surprised if she died.

But she got over it and seems to be fit as a fiddle now. Although I probably shouldn’t say that since it will jinx things.

I guess I’ll do a back up tonight, just in case.

It’s funny that I call her Tink. When it comes to Disney characters, I’m not a Tinkerbell. I’m not spritely and cute. I don’t possess any Tinkerbell like qualities at all.

I’m more like Piglet from Winnie the Pooh, anxiously wringing my hands in the background.

So maybe my Tink is an alter ego.

Maybe writing is an alter ego.

I certainly say things in the blog that I would never say out loud.

Sometimes I’m even surprised when they come out.

Like religion. I seem to write about religion a lot.

I never would have guessed that it would be a frequent topic for me, much less that it would play a big role in my MPBAN.

Sure, I went to Sunday School when I was a kid. And yes, I attended a Catholic college. But I’m not religious.

And I’ve always been fairly confused about how religion makes me feel.

Uneasy, jealous, curious, angry.

Today on National Public Radio, they did a story about a big atheism rally that was held in Washington, DC last weekend.

One of the atheists was very well spoken. He said that he didn’t judge religious people and just wanted them to extend the same courtesy. (I can never remember how to spell that word! I always have to play with it until I get close enough that spell check figures out what I’m trying to say. It’s ridiculous.)

He then said that his big issue was a true separation of church and state. No “under God” in the Pledge of Allegiance, no “In God We Trust” on our currency.

He said that it was just egotistical that people assumed everyone believed in their God, that there were no other valid belief systems.

It’s funny because the reason I can’t flat out accept atheism is because I think it’s egotistical to assume we’re it, that there’s nothing else out there.

I might not like one church telling me what to believe and how to worship, but I still think there’s some sort of higher power.

But he was reasonable, considerate and made sense.

Then another leading atheist started talking, and played right into the stereotype of the crazy atheist out to convince the world there is no God.

This guy said that religious people are all idiots because there is no scientific proof that God exists. He said that there’s a foundation that offers a one million dollar prize to anyone showing proof of God and no one has done it because there is none.

He sounded incredibly judgmental and condescending, sort of like a religious fanatic. He couldn’t even admit that churches provide a sense of community for many people. He was a bad spokesman for the cause.

Well, I don’t know how I got on religion again, but it got me through the last four hundred words, so I guess I should be thankful to whoever is out there.


One thought on “One Thousand Words, but It’s a Hot Mess

  1. Hang in there. You are doing and that is great. Besides Booktopia is about 1 month away and we’ll really give you something to write about!

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