There’s a term for the inability to start on projects or any task in general. I can’t recall it right now. I think it’s distinct from “executive dysfunction” but it might be a similar sounding term. I’m in a state of inertia at the moment, so I just don’t think I can switch over to my Google search bar and figure it out. I’d have to think about which keywords to use, and my brain can’t even begin to come up with anything. “The inability to start a thing?” “Not good at beginning?” “I don’t know what to do first to do things?” Damn. Yeah. It’s just way too complicated.
As a fan of the meta-arts, I am writing this blog post so my web content writing samples are plural. I just don’t think my blog post from a few weeks ago where I described the sandwich I ate that afternoon quite passes mustard on its own. Haha! Mustard! Instead of muster! Pun meets anthropomorphism! Hey sandwich! Do you have any Grey Poupon?
I know I have dozens of excellent things I’ve written in the past, but it would take a relatively significant bit of energy and motivation to find them, and I wouldn’t even know where to start.
So, COVID-19! Am I right? Am I write? No, I am not “write.” But I aspire to write. I’m actually a phenomenal writer, with words that dance across the page, that luxuriate in various sorts of beautiful clauses entangled in a romantic and meaningful convolution, using infrequently utilized parts of speech for hyperbolic proclamations, going on indefinitely to a point that it becomes difficult to follow, but with the payoff of comprehension once it’s been read a couple of times, or more, and using so many misguided commas, and so few, if any, semicolons, that by the end of it it doesn’t especially matter that that sentence is or is not so gratuitous, redundant, and repetitive as to no longer be clever, or even remotely satisfying, but instead dangles, mismodifying and unrequited.
The conversational tone of this piece has the feel of stand-up comedy, but I think it’s better suited for sitting. And not being vocalized.
I’m always intimidated when looking through freelance writing opportunities. I just feel inadequate. Like I haven’t written enough in my life. That I don’t think people will like my writing. That I use too many sentence fragments. Because I’m lazy. Though I like the pacing. Of the extra periods. As though prose were choking on uninvited poetry.
But if I just had a pile of subject matter I think I could whip it together into an appropriate product. I struggle to come up with ideas on my own that I’d like to write about, but if someone just gave me a selection of topics then that part of the process would already be covered.
Please hire me. Freelance. Short-term. Long-term. Flexible. Inflexible. For a word. A sentence. A paragraph. A multi-volume history on the evolution of the pencil eraser. I don’t care. Something. Please.
Love,
Stephen
As a fan of the meta-arts, I am writing this blog post so my web content writing samples are plural. I just don’t think my blog post from a few weeks ago where I described the sandwich I ate that afternoon quite passes mustard on its own. Haha! Mustard! Instead of muster! Pun meets anthropomorphism! Hey sandwich! Do you have any Grey Poupon?
I know I have dozens of excellent things I’ve written in the past, but it would take a relatively significant bit of energy and motivation to find them, and I wouldn’t even know where to start.
So, COVID-19! Am I right? Am I write? No, I am not “write.” But I aspire to write. I’m actually a phenomenal writer, with words that dance across the page, that luxuriate in various sorts of beautiful clauses entangled in a romantic and meaningful convolution, using infrequently utilized parts of speech for hyperbolic proclamations, going on indefinitely to a point that it becomes difficult to follow, but with the payoff of comprehension once it’s been read a couple of times, or more, and using so many misguided commas, and so few, if any, semicolons, that by the end of it it doesn’t especially matter that that sentence is or is not so gratuitous, redundant, and repetitive as to no longer be clever, or even remotely satisfying, but instead dangles, mismodifying and unrequited.
The conversational tone of this piece has the feel of stand-up comedy, but I think it’s better suited for sitting. And not being vocalized.
I’m always intimidated when looking through freelance writing opportunities. I just feel inadequate. Like I haven’t written enough in my life. That I don’t think people will like my writing. That I use too many sentence fragments. Because I’m lazy. Though I like the pacing. Of the extra periods. As though prose were choking on uninvited poetry.
But if I just had a pile of subject matter I think I could whip it together into an appropriate product. I struggle to come up with ideas on my own that I’d like to write about, but if someone just gave me a selection of topics then that part of the process would already be covered.
Please hire me. Freelance. Short-term. Long-term. Flexible. Inflexible. For a word. A sentence. A paragraph. A multi-volume history on the evolution of the pencil eraser. I don’t care. Something. Please.
Love,
Stephen
Comments
Post a Comment