Never been a fan of the whole New Year’s celebration. I can only strive to be better with each year, be above my last. I like to make forward movements. You know, be progressive. I want to write more, live more, travel more, take some more risks (even with a fiscal cliff looming, and yes, I know what they’re actually talking about), and love more. Gosh those love trials add more flavor to the writing. Sad, but true thoughts and concept surrounding that; “at the touch of love, every man becomes a poet.”
Even with all of that going on, or planning to go on and happen in the new year, I have to do a lot of hard work on my writing. I’ve said it so many times, and I like the way Bukowski describes writing in Women , as “a kind of insanity”. And now I’m starting to following him on that. I feel like I’m out of order or feeling guilty when I go an entire day without touching these keys to put down some cathartic thoughts, or to put down something that will later become a manuscript. It’s addicting, and I never thought I would be a writer or aspire to be a writer, and here I am punching away at keys on wordpress. I still haven’t finished Women by the way, but I will soon, and then I’ll have to stop reading altogether because I’ll start writing again, and editing again, and that’s just a recipe to imitate and disaster will come from me imitating so closely. I think that’s been happening for some time, but I’ve been trying to be cognizant of my composition more, making it my own, while borrowing something from some writers I’ve read. There’s a lot to do this upcoming year.