Titles are over rated anyway

I spend my days thinking of all the ways I can escape the current life I am living in. I always hear ‘if you don’t like something, fix it or change it.’ It’s a constant preaching that I experience. How does one go about changing everything if they are so unsure about all that they do? Tell me, please. I really would love to know. I’ve been searching and have yet to figure anything out. 

We all are now aware that I want to be a writer. It’s the only thing I think I am even remotely good at. I’ve thought about pursuing an education in Zoology. I’ve always liked animals better than people. Plus, I’d love to work with predators, since some of the people I know are scarier in mindset than Tigers or Wolves. Don’t take offense to that. I’m only giving you the reverence some of you deserve. 

I’ve even thought about becoming a psychiatrist or psychologist. I would love to sit on a soft, plushy chair with a notebook and listen to someone spill their guts for me. I hear the crazy rate for that career is kind of high. I’m already crazy enough, listening day in and day out to someones problems might drive me to actual insanity. The field still fascinates me. 

So I find myself still stuck in a dead end job after six years of slaving away for a company who is probably going to hell when it’s all said and done. I have other skills. I could do other jobs, I am just comfortable in what I do. I feel safe. I am terrified to take a jump into something different. I literally get so nervous when I even think about leaving my job. What if I fail? I shouldn’t be this scared, right? I’m just being silly, right?

I’m twenty-four years old and I am so done with everything. I don’t have a backup plan. I don’t even have a current plan. I should probably form some kind of plan, don’t you think? Where do I go from here? I’ll be twenty-five in five months and I have yet to do anything mildly important with my life. I want to be free, I want to be adventurous. I want to quit my job, pack up my shit and leave, but that only happens in books and movies. It isn’t real and in this economy it is virtually impossible.

So until I grow some courage, I’ll stay in my unhappy state and keep pouring my woes into my work. 

Easy is Over Done.

My grand idea.

I call this my grand idea. It’s a concept in where I am able to put thoughts to paper, sense to a blank document. Where words become poetry and prose, not just distant shadows of untamed sentences. The grammar is diligent and the punctuation is precise. It’s where I don’t fall short when trying to find a word that suits my needs. I want to expand my mind, expand my knowledge. I don’t want to be restricted to this tiny vocabulary that most people possess. I want to have a vast learning of the english language. I want to sound articulate and literate. I want people to know that I study and research and try to find new ways to expand my mind. It’s a wonderful concept, but that’s all it is. It’s a concept. A concept that seems that it will never come true. I know how to do it. I have all the tools necessary to complete my task, yet when I sit down to just write, nothing comes out. Not anything worthwhile at least.

 

But who am I to decide what’s worthwhile? It’s not my judgment that matters. It’s what others think of my writing. I am not just writing for myself, I am writing for others. I want to inspire people. I want to make a living. I know that is terribly difficult in this day an age, making a living doing what you love, but I want to. So desperately bad. I feel I was always fall short. Is there some kind of magic that you must find to become a writer? Is there some kind of enchantment you must say? If there is, I have not a clue what it is. I think I might be shit out of luck.

 

I get confused as to what to do. Do I write like this?

 

Sally met Joe and they went to dinner together.

 

Is that what people want? Or do I write like this?

 

Sally managed to meet a single stranger that day, but it was sure he wouldn’t be a stranger for long. She learned his name was Joe and he was in town on business, and was eager for some new company. He kindly asked her to accompany him to dinner that night. Without a single ounce of hesitation in her voice, she agreed. Life was a grand adventure and she wouldn’t miss a second of it.

 

Is that better? Does it paint a more vivid picture? Do I put vibrant words and descriptions of everything in each paragraph? How many chapters is an acceptable book size? How many pages are in each chapter, in each book? There are so many questions and I have no idea how to go about answering any of them. Sure, I can google them but then I get run-of-the-mill, cookie cutter answers. What the fuck do I do? I need something to go on. I don’t know where to start. Maybe a blog? Maybe that would be a good idea. I could start a new blog just for my writing. Who would read it? Who would ever sit down and actually want to read my rantings and ravings? I don’t think anyone would, but I could give it a try.

An introduction to the society of lost writers.

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So this is me. This is my time to shine, right? This is my space where I can write freely, bare my soul and tell you all about how I can’t find the right moment to sit down and start writing the greatest story never told. 

I always feel there should be an introduction of sorts. I should tell you a little bit about me, but no small amount of words with even begin to scratch the surface. How conceited does that make me sound? Terribly so, I know. It doesn’t matter. This blog is about me. It’s for me. I need a place to relieve tension. To hopefully pour some of these thoughts out of my mind. I feel as though I am going crazy sometimes. This will be an experiment, a tool to ease my soul. Do not feel like you should find something fantastic here. That probably will never happen. Sorry to disappoint. If anything, I hope I can help you find your way to becoming a better writer. Much better than myself. 

That was all nonsense. I am nonsense.

My name is K-La. I generally go by Hollywood. I suppose it’s up to you to choose what you’d like to call me, but it’s really up to me as to what I shall respond to.  I am a twenty-four year old aspiring writer. I’m aspiring but failing miserably, but we will see what happens in the end. After all, no great story gives up the ending at the beginning.

I’m a dreamer. I’m a lover of all. I give my heart away too easily and I feel too much. I grow much too attached to people, but I am ever so distant. I am a contradiction at best. I thrive on poetic movements, on beautiful music and soulful writings. I love reading and writing more than anything else. I am nothing more than another lost soul trying to find their way.

This is my blog. These are my ramblings. Be afraid, there be monsters in these waters.