Wednesday, July 11, 2012

CHECKUP... ER, CHECK IN FOR ROW80

CHECK-IN ROW80 CHALLENGE


I got up this morning sure I was going to blog about violas. A sure-fire, slam-dunk, 750 word quickie essay if there ever were one. Then, I gobbled down my psych meds, had me some refreshing iced-tea from the night before. Aaaah! Nothing life stale back-wash! And started to read my emails.


Disqus, Disqus, Disqus, Disqus, Disqus, Twitter, Disqus, Twitter. Hmm. I have been reading several different blogs and carefully trying to, or in some case, rather slap-dashedly, reply to what I read in a coherent and somewhat analytical fashion.


I guess it wouldn't be too soon for me to establish my goals for ROW80 here. Learn to write in a polished and coherent manner, rhetorical-wise, I mean. In 80 days or less. Guess I'm well on my way!


Okay! Now that the house-keeping is out of the way, I can get back to the ever important goal of writing in a coherent-type fashion. Where was I? Oh yeah.  


Disqus, Disqus, Disqus, Disqus, Disqus, Twitter, Disqus, Twitter. Hmm. Andi-Roo (forever known to me now as the Dialog Grand Champion) answered every single one of my comments in every single one of her posts. This is no mean feat. I have noticed this tendency to oh, say, give a shit? with other bloggers as well. Bloggers who really care about their work tend to answer the comments from their readers!!! Color me shocked! In this day and age! 


Well, I started rethinking my idea about horking up little-known facts about violas, for ROW80 today. Chances are, if any of you played viola, you did it in elementary school for about 4 weeks, decided it sucked and went on to play the drums, so you could get chicks. I might have written an okay post, but it would be like an easy "A" and it would defeat the purpose of what this challenge is about, which is setting attainable goals. 


I believe I mentioned I can write. The sad fact is, I have neither family nor full time career to keep me from writing. I am disabled and housebound for the most part. I also suffer (although I think it's more of a party in my head, most of the time) from mental illness. I always have huge writer's block here, so let me just say it real quick and we're done with it; surgical strike: legally blind, bi-polar, depression, Parkinson's. Done.


So, nothing fatal, just annoying shit. And boy, do I annoy the shit out of people. I hope to do it professionally some day, in a lyrical, almost Garrison Keillor-ish kind of way, but will settle for Calvin Trillin. So, I think my main challenge is going to be waiting for a cause. For me, I seem to be at my best as a writer when something strikes me as either a completely egregious act of cruelty to something so weak and small, or something so stupidly obvious as to cause my head to implode. 


If this all seems quixotic, it's because it is. I mentioned in a post on the 4th of July that I've had a very rough time lately, but I am feeling much better and more centered. I also sense great changes, cosmically. Great, now I sound insane. Maybe it's getting older. Geeze. Mary. This is a blog, not psycho-therapy.


Anyway, I see a vast slice of the universe from where I sit (in a plastic patio chair, in my bedroom, in front of my computer screen.) I see eons past and I see far into the future from these 3 square feet in Tampa. I see into the hearts and minds of kind, loving people and I see into the hearts and minds of those who wish us nothing but evil, destruction, loss and madness. Sometimes I see it too well.


I find it amazing that it is so easy to see into the heart of darkness and understand it. I also see why it is so compelling and it's pull so subtle and strong. We all have it. We are all heir to that Faustian undertow, that slippery slope and once started down it, can a soul retrace the path? I didn't mean to go down this road today, but, I never know where I'm apt to find myself. I've actually made friends with this. It was a lifelong process and there were times I didn't understand it. It worked out, though for two reasons. I know why I did it, and I don't have to do it anymore; the drugs help, i do it only in defense. But, sadly, I did it, because no one paid attention when I was "good."  But, I digress.


I mentioned to Andi-Roo in a comment that I would be able to do 750 words easily and she said she'd be lucky to "poop out 3 pages" a week, which is very cool. I told her and I repeat to you all, I hope you all don't wish for me to take the literary equivalent of Kaopectate. <3


Quick P.S. As a work in progress, this blog is starting to resemble an overgrown petrie dish, heh.
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