Okay, I got drunk and wrote a blog. It’s really stupid but you are welcome to read it anyway. I’m actually only posting it because of a little interlude that occurred that night. I was writing away, drinking and laughing at myself because it was all so silly, but then I took a bit of a break and something unexpected happened. I’ll talk about that later; for now, here’s my unedited ramblings:
oh , shit. So here i am, a little bit more than al ittle bit dunk, and I’ mposting because a few people thoguht itd be funny to have me write a drunk post. For the record, I’m not editing or censoring this, and I have no idea what its’ about so…enjooy!
I had a bit of bourbon, and yes I went back to be sure I was spelling it right. You know what would be funny? to add in a few pictures of me drunk when i’ msober so that you can ssee how ridiculous i look. not now, of course, but at cariousl times thoruhgtout myu life. I’ve been drunk before , you know. nothing wrong twith that.
Can you elieve I write tlike this? this is why editing takes som damn nlong I think. There have been mroe than a few time shweweere I’ ve loksed at somethign tand though what the dfuck was i trying to say? The fun part s the rediscovery of ideas. If it happens and no one writes it down, does it really happen I don’t thionk so.
Actually, this is a pretty dumb iea now tha ti’m wrting it, because I knoew its goint ti be iunreadable. Shoule I finish? sure I will, but maybe I’ll wait until I’m a bot less drunk. Let’s try tomowrrow, shall we?
No, I wont edit it between now and then. scouts nonor.
Staturday night, pary 2:
A funny thing happened. actually, it’s still happening ebcause I’m still writing, I took a break (see above) and went to kill some zombies with my main man Detective Washington. After that, I came back to trusty ole’ lappy and continued on a short story I’m finishing up. This is what came out:
They started climbing into the boat. They came from all sides as Connie shot them one by one. When the first one reached for her, she aimed her rifle at its head and pulled the trigger. It fell backwards in a puddle of soggy flesh, but the breech door flew open and the trigger locked to the rear. She checked the magazine; it was empty.
Oddly enough, I didn’t ewdit that before pasting. It’s pafar from perfect, and I may regret posing ot tomorrow., but when I wrote it I thought huh, why is that so neat and tidy? something happened when I started to write that doesnt happen when I’m ranmling randonm thoughts here. I looked atht the word sand everything ame into focus. Isn’t that weird? I think this is just hilarious because I see red lines appearing all over, Googles way of tellingm e i’ m being an idiot, but I just don’t care. When Iwas writing the story above, everything changed. Aparrantly, writing is a sobering experience.
What does all this mean> not a clue. I think I’ll actually call this one a day and post tomorrow night. As pro,ised, I wo’t edit at all. I will add in the embarassing pictures as promised, but that’s alll in gppd funa anyway, so…fuck it. Hopw youp enjoyed, and if nt…doin’t worry, I’ll be sober next time.
For now, I’m going ot go back and finish this story. I think I like it/ Besides, Connie is in a bit of a predicament just now. I wouldn’;t want to leave her hanging.
There it is. Yes, it was silly. No, you can never get that time back. At least it was short, right? The part that really interested me is that I really didn’t edit while I was writing. I think I was completely incapable. I could barely read much less edit, yet somehow I managed to concentrate on my story and get the job done. No, it wasn’t spectacular, but I did feel much more focused while I was writing, and that night I finished the story. I didn’t care, I just wrote, and I had a blast. Editing came later, and that made it all better.