Getting back into it

In an attempt to get back into writing after a long hiatus, I spit out the following with the Most Dangerous Writing App set at 10 mins. September 10, 2021.

I have only 10 minutes to write before I go on a run. This is the only time I have left after taking the dog for a walk — which is really a polite way of saying I was taking him outside and waiting on him so he poops on the grass and not in the carpet inside. I should really move into a house with a backyard so the process doesn’t take half an hour more than the two to five minutes that it should.

Either case it is what it is and I only have 8 minutes to write before I go on a run. I would like the run to be a 2-mile run, and I would like to score sub 8min 30s a mile for both the miles. It is highly unlikely given that I am very tired from running errands this past week, but giving it an honest try is all I can give it.

Hard things are fun to do — riding at the sharp edge of possibility where inertia keeps trying to pull me down and the high of just being there sustained by effort keeps me at it. There has to be some sort of masochism there but that is a discussion for future.

I needed to write this morning because I haven’t written in a while, which makes is extremely difficult to write. I have tried writing — even signed up for a class thinking that the mandatory homework assignments would encourage me to write.

Maybe I was secretly hoping to force my feebler self into submission with the threat of shame of having to show up to class without having done homework. But it don’t react to the fear of shame the same way, as it turns out one more time.

Which is precisely why I have this need to write whatever comes out of my mind and put it up on display. And that works at opening that hatch into the abyss of the unconscious through which stories and metaphors waft out when I pour coffee into it.