back-dated 04/03/09: something, someone, someday…

Someday I will get this blog properly formatted and build the rest of the website around it. I don’t have a clue as to when this elusive “someday” might be, but it would be nice if it was sooner than later. I have my CSS code written. I just need to figure out how to fix it to render properly in browsers other than Firefox.

Bear wants to work with me on writing PHP code for the site itself. Meaning, I’ll tell him what I want it to look like, he’ll write the code. I don’t know the first thing about PHP, so if I’m going to have a website that uses it, it’s not going to be me who codes it. He also says he can create a blogging client that’s completely customizable to my preferences so I won’t even need Blogger or any other licensed platform to use as my base for the actual blog. I don’t know how long it would take him to write the code for the site the way I want it, but we’d have to actually sit down to work on it in order to have some idea of what it will take to get it done. That will be the biggest hurdle right there, methinks.

In the meantime, I should be putting together the rest of the content I plan to have on the site. I have some general ideas of what I actually want, but I haven’t put anything into tangible form yet. My overall plan is to have an all-inclusive portfolio, combining all of my prior website pipe dreams into one complete site. Blogging, writing, music commentary, general geekery, and probably some other topics I’ve always wanted to put into website form and never have and/or let die due to lack of updates and content.

It doesn’t help that I apparently have no attention span for anything anymore. It takes forever to actually get anything done, granted I actually remember to do it. The more stressed I get, the worse the ADD gets, the more stressed I get, the worse the depression and anxiety get, the more stressed I get, the worse everything gets. And I’m one constant ball of stress seeing no progress and only collapse when it comes to the state of my mental health.

I really hope starting from scratch on my meds will actually work for all of this. I have another week of system “wash out” before I start fresh with a new prescription. Here’s hoping once I do start that, the mood will level off, the full-body pain will subside, the vice will vacate my chest and let go of my lungs, and my attention span will return at least to what I was before I started to really get shit-hammered with one metric fuckton of stress after another.

For now, I just attempt to relax enough to get comfortable in bed and fall asleep without the overwhelming urge to smash my head through a brick wall.

back-dated 03/12/09: it’s a catch 22…

I’ve been reading through a lot of old journal entries lately. I have so many journal “projects” around, it’s a wonder I can keep them all straight. What I’ve found out by going back to the archives, is the fact that I am a capable writer. I do have some sliver of talent. I’m by no means best-selling author material, but I don’t suck.

What gets me is most of the “good” stuff I’ve read lately is generally venting on and on about writer’s block and what it’s doing to my projects. I’ve managed to compose pseudo-intelligent commentary on the subject. It’s actually coherent. Which poses the question…why can’t I write like this all the time? Why can’t I write like this in my regular, day-to-day journal. The one people actually read. Instead of sounding like I have a brain in my head it comes out as erratic drivel, spewed forth from a drunk howler monkey. When writing about my life, writing about things I know, it’s crap. When I’m writing something fictional or writing about writing, it’s okay. I don’t understand it. I probably never will.

Reading through the old entries, I thought to myself that the so-called “good” stuff, doesn’t sound like me. There are a lot of tell-tale signs that are signature me, but at the same time it all sounds very foreign. How can this be mine? It’s not total crap.

I’m not in complete denial here. I know I can write. I know I can compose things people would actually want to read. It’s just difficult for me to admit that out loud. I’m a perpetual pessimist. I have a love/hate relationship with my writing. Apparently I love to hate it.

I’ll write something that, at the given moment, sounds pretty good. The next time I pick it up and read through it, I realize it’s total crap. I’ll leave it alone for awhile…days, months, even years…and when I pick it up and reread it, I realize, it’s not really that bad. Some of it is actually good. Granted this doesn’t happen very often, but when it does, it reminds me that I don’t completely suck as a writer.

When I throw caution to the wind and just write, there’s no problem. The words get put down on the page and each time I read through it, I start to like it more and more. It’s just that it is very difficult for me to just sit down and write. I can rarely muster the attention span to fully concentrate on what I’m trying to do. There is so much noise in my head, it just comes out garbled and useless. But when I can just write…I enjoy every last minute of it. And I remember exactly why I want to be a writer.

I try to remind myself of this when I start to lose sight of what I really want to accomplish. Sometimes there’s just too much fog to see it clearly and it’s easy to just shove it aside and forget about it until the fog eventually clears.

There’s been a lot of fog for quite some time now. I’m trying to fumble my way through it, slowly but surely. I’m just not so sure how far it is until the haze disappears.