I feel heavy lidded and much like The Angler (‘lo), I feel like the truth is not in me. Wouldn’t it be embarrassing if this entry, riddled with likely spelling mistakes through drunken disregard, turned out to be the 100th entry? Orc-ward indeed. As it stands I’ve got my forward momentum mentality enabled. Gawd, this is one of the many reasons that I don’t update intoxicated… ly? It’s tough having a project resting in front of you and feeling an intense foreboding against throwing yourself into it more. At this stage of the night, about 4.40am, you find yourself following topics at a bizarre pace, and moving in different directions that seem counter-intuitive. Thoughts bloom in clusters of insane colours and images, like a 90s MTV station ID. At this stage I’m almost frightened to see what results from an altered mind-state and unmitigated reign over an assembly of meaning. If you’d only known the number of typos that’d made their way here, you’d be hiding your children under the floorboards, thus protecting the younger generation from Bed Intruders climbing in their windows.
INTO THE DRUNK TANK WITH YOU, LEONIDAS!
Several hours later I return. Mighty are my preparations! I really had to put a pin in that, things were getting silly. My typos were transcending English to pay homage to Eldritch deities. I do believe at some point I said ” I want to write some form fo caiibus, Iscuak ecuisn.” I just checked to see if my arms had morphed into tentacles, but alas I’m still as human as I ever was. I’m not gonna lie, with my self-policing and correcting typos, the above paragraph took me about 20 mintutes. When you think about it, this type of scenario in a way calls into question the value of aspects of this project. Is it worthwhile doing 30 minutes of writing if all I produce is solid junk? The idea is for a quantity above quality approach in the hopes that my output will eventually outshine the former to accomplish the latter. If I’m repeatedly putting it off to be the last thing I do before I sleep, regardless of mental state, am I really achieving anything by putting those thoughts out into the world?
I guess on one hand it’s a nicely indicative of my mental state. I can use it as a cautionary tale against the dangers of drinking/writing or trying to work creatively when I’ve got nothing left in the tank. I mean, here I stand with about 3.5 hours of sleep, so it’s not like I’m running on premium at present. Also the concept of achieving anything with this project is another interesting one. At some stage I might look back in reflection of the many words I’ve exuded in the last 3+ months. I’m probably running close to the mythical 50,000 number as it is. I don’t really go back and read what I’ve laid down, so I don’t know how much I’ve really learned or if there’s actually anything valuable hidden in the digital ink I’ve consumed. One of the few things I’ve noticed is my judicious use of needless modifiers. So many “just”s or “that”s clogging up the works. I’d love to learn to streamline my structure, not to the point of clockwork efficiency (’cause how fun would this be without a bit of flourish?), but to at least get a bit more out of my word output. A lean, mean writing machine? Low hanging fruit, Leon, you can do better. The Quiller in Manila? Nice. Tight. Gross. A whole generation of bro-dom has ruined the use of the word “tight” and now I can’t use it without mentally referencing a vagina or bum. I love how all it took was one word and unpacking its held meaning to entirely derail the integrity of everything I’ve written today. Oh me, never change.