I’m still not sure it’s possible to write anything without eventually hating it. But that’s not the point of writing.
Some articles start with a good idea and turn into this after the first 120 words;
“This is all fucking garbage. You can’t write for shit. Waste of time. This is a waste of time. Who CARES? This isn’t real.”
After a mild breakdown, a man grunt, and a fist slam on my desk I start getting closer to the good stuff.
For maybe 30 minutes I can be myself. The real self that says interesting shit and doesn’t give a fuck. Clairvoyant and confident with the feeling that I actually believe what I am writing.
It feels great when someone likes something I write and they feel compelled to say something, usually that they were inspired or they connected or something like that. It feels nice, it motivates me and I get sentimental about people for a couple hours.
I go to sleep every night with myself and barely a memory of that fleeting moment when people liked my work. I wake up the next morning and yesterday isn’t going to be enough.
Go through it again. Write some bullshit. Rip it to shreds. Be lost. Pound desk, twice, maybe 8 or 10 because it feels good. Grind teeth. Rage write. Fuck this.
Then I’m back. A rip of the universe’s coke. I’ve found the point.
Focusing on one thing and doing it over and over. It’s how we build momentum. It’s how we change who we are, how we think, and how generally fucking cool we are.
If I write like this every day then I will rule my life because life is easy to dominate if I just do what I say I’m going to do.
“I wish I…”
Those are the things. If I do those things that I wish I would do every day then I am operating in a pocket of space that makes life interesting and really worth living.
Life wants to be dominated and circumstances make it pretty easy for us if we just have the goddamn courage to do the things we say we want to do.
The words I write usually go through a filter. The audience, my parents, significant others, anyone that might be affected. Before I type a word on the screen it’s already been shared with all these people in Microsoft Cerebral Outlook. I’ve been robbed. But it’s my own fault. I’m no longer contributing what I need to be contributing.
How do I not write to appeal to people?
How do I not care what other people think about me?
When I write every day, when I do anything every day, all extremities are pulled away and then it’s just the last kernel of truth that has the substance to still be standing. Fat can’t stay on the body when we exercise with frequency and bullshit self lies and doubts can’t stay in the mind if we exercise our brain every day. It’s stagnation that creates problems. People in action don’t have time to be afraid. Evolution doesn’t allow it because it doesn’t serve us.
We are sitting here. We are just sitting here and we are making excuses for why.
Why would we hide every day in plain site?
People are only soft if we treat them like they can’t handle the truth.
They’ve been waiting for it their whole life.
Above exercise and diet is self-acceptance. And not the self-acceptance we hear about in yoga class, like we are perfect as we are. That’s not true. We’re not perfect. We need to put in some serious work so that we can lie down at night and think we did and said things that were true. That’s how we actually love ourselves.
We do the things we say we are going to do. We do the things we really want to do every day to become unfiltered.
People are judged over a lifetime. Not 5 minutes or 1 day. If you stop listening to what people say and start looking at what they do then you will know who they are. We are confusing ourselves with our words, using them like credit cards. We are distracting ourselves from our work. And we get away with it because we are clever.
What have we done in our lifetime?
That will be the question we are left with. The one we will care about more by the time it’s too late.
I am working on becoming unfiltered. To be myself when others expect something different. I write about this only because it’s a part of my every day practice. It’s an experiment. It’s an experience. It’s something I want to do.
Writing in my journal every day for the last 10 months has objectively documented everything I’ve been doing. What I eat, who I hang out with, how I spend my time. It catalogs my emotions. It’s no longer confusing who I am. I have my thoughts and I have my experiences. The things that make me who I am. It doesn’t go through anyone else’s filter and when I go back and review there’s no room for making up stories.
It helps me get over those moments of modified behavior that take me away from myself. It’s like football practice – running plays, watching film, seeing what works. It’s like relationships – getting a butterfly, having a date, the uncomfortable first kiss. Then you’re in love.
Everything in life is a progression. Everything takes practice. We become an expert on anything that we focus our attention on. Why would we treat our own development any differently?
People ask me how to get things done or how to break free.
Do the things we say we’re going to do. We have to work towards something every day to figure out who we are over time. If we don’t know who we are then we can never stand for anything. And whatever someone comes at us with, however they want to treat us or judge us or even support us, that has everything to do with them and nothing to do with us.