If you sit and think about what you want to write, you will never write.
If you plan and plan and plan your novel, you will never write a novel.
If you intend to get down to business on that blog post about meta-tags, you will meta-tag the internet before you start actually writing your blog post.
Write first. Just one leaf. And have a look at it after awhile and think “Oh, well this could have been better if I had left out every occurrence of the verb ‘to be’,” or “Oh, well maybe this is actually what it might have been about and I totally missed it.”
But get busy. Move your hands. You aren’t getting any younger and neither am I. Writing is movement, and if you are just sitting and staring at this post about moving your hands but you aren’t moving your hands, then you aren’t doing it.
“This country, with its institutions, belongs to the people who inhabit it. Whenever they shall grow weary of the existing government, they can exercise their constitutional right of amending it, or their revolutionary right to dismember it or overthrow it.”—Abraham Lincoln
“Most people, as far as I can see, when they’re in love with someone and the love isn’t returned feel that they have a grievance. They grow angry and bitter. I wasn’t like that. I never expected you to love me, I didn’t see any reason that you should. I never thought myself very lovable. I was thankful to be allowed to love you and I was enraptured when now and then I thought you were pleased with me or when I noticed in your eyes a gleam of good-humored affection. I tried not to bore you with my love; I knew I couldn’t afford to do that and I was always on the lookout for the first sign that you were impatient with my affection.”—W. Somerset Maugham (via isthisblood)
Susanna Kaysen: [reading from a book] “Borderline Personality Disorder. An instability of self-image, relationships and mood… uncertainty about goals, impulsive in activities that are self-damaging, such as casual sex.” Lisa Rowe: I like that. Susanna Kaysen: “Social contrariness and a generally pessimistic attitude are often observed” Well, that’s me. Lisa Rowe: That’s everybody.
I don’t know what to say in circumstances like these that won’t seem flimsy or pretentious. But I did see somebody on my dashboard reblogging someone else who said that one take away could be how important it is to do your own disaster preparedness, because even in the US (clearly) we’re far from perfecting the art of keeping people alive in nature’s terrible wake. That’s not a bad idea. There are plenty of clever products you could keep on hand.
This led me to think, though, of how often we’re reliant on other humans in times of extremis. We have to do what we can for ourselves. But sometimes we need another to do for us. And so one thing you could do that might be useful were you ever to be at the site of an emergency is to get certified in First Aid/CPR. It’s not hard, so don’t be intimidated, and some communities have programs that offer the training for free. If yours doesn’t, there’d be no harm in trying to get one started. Most people who are certified are happy and even eager to try to teach others what they know. And if the cost of certification is still prohibitive, there’s no reason why you can’t educate yourself regardless.
“Writers fight a myriad of internal battles that are difficult to translate to other people. For example, they often have low self-esteem coupled with an odd form of grandiosity (John Barth: “It’s a combination of an almost obscene self-confidence and an ongoing terror.”); they are intelligent but in unmeasurable ways; they are highly skilled yet have difficulty finding congenial work in the world; they are easy-going in their lifestyle yet have unusual and non-negotiable needs; they enjoy people but are fierce about alone time; they are likable but peculiar.”—
It’s never over, My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder It’s never over, all my riches for her smiles when I slept so soft against her It’s never over, All my blood for the sweetness of her laughter It’s never over, She’s a tear that hangs inside my soul forever
“I do not want to be the leader. I refuse to be the leader. I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. I want a man lying over me, always over me. His will, his pleasure, his desire, his life, his work, his sexuality the touchstone, the command, my pivot. I don’t mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated. I don’t mind being told to stand on my own feet, not to cling, be all that I am capable of doing, but I am going to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a male at his time, his bidding.”—Anais Nin (via nightmarebrunette)
“Some day, after mastering the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness the power of love, and then, for a second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire.”—Teilhard de Chardin (via fuckyeahlove)
I can see right through you. Like glass. Right through to your heart and the beats per second, drumming into me, the lyrics of your lies & your truths. I can smell the blood, the way it pumps through your veins with either pure or ill intent. I can see myself in your eyes. Like crystal balls. The way I’m reflected tells me how you will teach me, use me, need me, fuck me, love me, leave me. I hunt the hunter in you. I often know what’s going on & many times, I’ll let you play. I play along with you. I use you using me. I enjoy watching your moves. Muscle spasms, nervous laughter, & fingers scratching through fabric. I observe you in your observation of me; in your supposed hooking and nailing of me. I wonder if I simply get off on knowing that I was right. Or perhaps I am just waiting to be proven wrong.