The following is a non-linear, stream-of-consciousness and wholly improvised piece of creative non-fiction. Viewer patience is advised.
So let’s write. Let’s talk about writing. Let’s do both at once! It’s been a while and is totally necessary at this time. With the hiphop tapes in the background and no work in the future it’s best to at least do some writing in the meantime.
It’s astounding how easily the words can just come out at times. Just let them flow; just let them slide out of the pen, the pencil, the typewriter, the keys. There is no exclusion of content. Feel free to see what comes out, come what may.
It’s easy to get caught up in the game of what sounds good, or entertaining, or culturally valid. It can be just as easy to let all that go and just type, type, type; write, write, write.
This is stream -of-consciousness. This is an exercise in writing for the sake of writing; expression also of necessity. I haven’t written much this week. I’ve been spinning in circles like so many vinyl records. They get more attention than my bank account.
I’m not giving up on this. But that shouldn’t be the excuse for not trying harder.
So now it feels like I’m journaling, as though I’ve let go of the writing exercise. That’s valid. It’s important. Let it be. It still counts as writing. I’m still letting those thoughts come out as words and those words come out as expression.
It doesn’t matter what the words are. Just so long as they are.
I almost put a cap on it there. It felt like a valid ending, that last sentence. As good a place as any? Not quite – rather a strong ending beat, a good signature before the copyright symbol. But that’s no reason to stop. Not at 200-something words, now 313.
Keep writing. Keep writing, writing, writing.
No looking back now. No reviewing all that I’ve written over the past few minutes to check for flow and grammar and relative content. This is stream-of-consciousness, the impending material influenced only by the few words and thoughts that came just prior, not the overall picture. I’m not on a bicycle ride, stopping to look back at the path I’ve just taken. This is an adventure, moving down untaken paths. No reason to lose momentum now.
As I said, “no reason to lose momentum” I in fact lost some, but not for the same reasons. I was overthinking my words. I still am. But at this very nanosecond I’m striving forward with free, fluid continuity. I’m still executing minor backspace edits and scratching my ear and noticing the cold air on my breath but even all of that is turning into the words I type. It’s all valid; it’s all relevant.
With free thought comes blank thought too. I do not know where I’m going with this. The aforementioned moment, the sentence with which I felt comfortable with stopping at, I’m not sure if I’m approaching a logical conclusion like that one again. The point of this exercise is to not look for one, to not craft one. That would imply structure, which I do not want. That said, something in me needs it. It doesn’t, it wouldn’t, make sense to just end this like a Monty Python sketch. A random non sequitur.
© 2016 Andrew Hall Writes