I am so sorry about this entire train wreck of a post. If you want to hold on to sanity, by all means, run. If you’re at the point in your life nothing really phases you anymore and you’re pretty much to numb to all pain, then proceed.
Writing when you’re tired
Writing is like making soup. You have to have your ingredients. Then you have to chop everything up, throw it on the stove-top and let it simmer.
In the mornings, I have a giant, empty pot and a knife for chopping. As I go about my day, I gather my ingredients. Broth is my mood, conversations vegetables, and everyday wonders for a little spice. In the evenings, my brain mixes it all up and lets it simmer. Ideas form in my brain soup, and I write a little blurb and post it here, or cook something up for fiction writing class.
But tonight, my brain soup is overcooked. Which you already know because that damn metaphor was really reaching. I want to say that something amazing is on my mind, but there’s absolutely nothing here worthwhile.
Except for the fact that I saw writing on the side of a popcorn bag that said, “Big sac!” but the font made it look like it said, “Big sad!” and I felt really bad for the popcorn for a minute there. Who hurt you, SmartPop?
Also my eye doctor said it could be helpful for me to actually wear my glasses.
A lot of people talk about writer’s block. My brain can always manage to put something on paper. It’s a weird gift, of sorts.
But that doesn’t always mean it’s good. I’ve written things that I’m proud of.
This is not one of them.
Sometimes my brain writes about star-gazing and sleeping in the space between stars, and other times it writes about brain soup. There’s always something rolling around between my ears. And today it’s just that I chose a really late time of night to write. Or really early time in the morning, depending on how you think of it. (It’s one AM. Chances are, this will be posted much later. I do my writing in advance sometimes, which today was undoubtedly a mistake.)
I came to the keyboard planning to make my big popcorn joke. And then I started thinking about the song Brain Stew by Greenday. And then this post happened.
What about you? When do you write? Do you have a big skull-full of brain soup, or do you think I should see a neurologist? Comment down below and let me know or whatever. Or don’t. I’m not your mom.