Monday, 5 March 2012

I don't need a title for this blog.

You know, it's been a while since I've sat down to write a blog without a single idea of what I was going to put in it. I briefly thought about what I might title it, but then I thought, well that rather defeats the point of a spontaneous blog, if I put a heading at the top and write with it leering over me. So I'm going to write with a blank title. What significance do headings have when the content is the greater picture? See, I don't need to plan these things to sound like a philosophical genius.

I sit in my bed, in PJs, under the blanket, leaning against my adorable big penguin, and munching on cereal, tired. Thinking. Not caring what people think about guys who eat cereal at quarter past 11. And I think "You know, I'd love to draw more."

There are always easy ways to create impediments for creativity. I haven't got a scanner. I don't know how to process pictures. I don't like drawing on Microsoft Paint. I'm not sure where my graphics tablet is. But the reality is, when it comes down to it, I just can't be fucked to draw more and put stuff out there. We have a scanner on our printer, it probably wouldn't be that difficult to get working. I have a graphics tablet still, a usable one in good condition that I even know where it is. And drawing is easy. It's just keeping it together.

Writing is another one. It's not something I like to talk about a lot, to admit that I'm writing less and can't be fucked to write either. It's the kind of "I want to do it but it's too much effort." The Ancient Greeks were wise to this and even had a special word for it: akrasia. It describes the kind of paralysis that comes from knowing what you should be doing but not doing it through a weakness of will or otherwise. At the bottom of it, all it comes down to is sitting down, and just writing. Fuck the consequences. I don't allow myself to count blogging as writing.

I have a special folder on my email account for It's a website I used to use a lot more when I was younger, when I was part of the fanfic community, and I wrote fanfictions, which are stories based on existing stories. I don't do that any more, but one thing I wrote relatively recently was a Hunger Games fanfiction. So I got to about fourteen chapters and then stopped and lost the will, and it got to ages, and then I finally wrote something, but it didn't progress the plot at all... and that was the last thing I've written of that story in months. Every time I go onto my email I check that fanfiction folder, and when I see the little number next to the title indicating that there's a message in there, I feel the guilt. When I see that it's someone who's liked and favourited it, I know that's one more person who read it, invested in it, and wants to see where it goes. When I see a review, and read person upon person telling me "Please keep writing," I know just how many people loved that story, invested in it, and I let down.

Akrasia. Three syllables that I wield like a shield, defending my apathy with Greek philosophicalese that puts me one step away from my inaction. As if it wouldn't merely take me to just give an old project one more shot for the people who loved it. It's something that I do with every project, so few that I start do I finish. It's something that really angers me, yet I can't make myself do anything about it. It's too much effort. The guilt just makes me feel bad, and it doesn't make me want to fix it.

I'm tired. I've not had a proper bedtime in solid weeks. There hasn't been one single day for so many of them where I've got to bed at a respectable time.

I'm tired. I don't like this.


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