Writing About Writing

Writing About Writing

26.04.2019

Someday. Someday I will manage this whole mess of sleeping properly. Today’s progress: I was awake before 10 am. Disadvantage: I did not sleep until about 4 am. Overall sleeping time: could be improved. But I’m getting there. Somehow. Sometimes it’s really hard for me to find the correct words in German, even though German is actually my mother tongue. It seems that my almost exclusive consumption of English media leaves its traces in my brain. Somehow fascinating. Not that I would complain. Somehow it’s entertaining. But that’s why random English terms flow into such texts every now and then, because it’s obviously not about consistency and clarity. But that’s also quite nice. I don’t even have to meet my own demands of perfection here, because I won’t subject these words to another extensive editing phase later on. Otherwise I would probably feel like deleting or rewriting half of it. A few days ago I brought the introductory chapter of my book into its supposedly final form. At the end quite a few pages of the original version fell victim to my need for clarity. With good reason, to be honest. The unstructured nonsense I wrote there a year ago – oh, boy. Some people have already told me that they don’t have such an editing phase at all for their stories or homework. They write a version that is also the final work. I never understood that. Your own word is incredibly strongly influenced by the context in which it was written. Texts that I write with sleep deprivation, under the influence of alcohol, in depressive periods or similar states of mind sound completely different from what a perfectly clear, optimistic-realistic ego would write. If I only ever kept it in one version, I could no longer face myself out of shame at some point. Rightly so. Editing saves lives. Somehow it was like that. And no, it doesn’t distort the original work either, but refines it in the proper parts. Our thoughts change with every second that passes, so it’s only logical that tomorrow we might think differently about what we wrote today. Those who stagnate have long ceased to live. There’s a fly humming at my window. Argh. It’s SO incredibly annoying. I hate something like that. But I don’t want to kill it either, because in one way it’s disgusting and secondly it’ s super unnecessary. It is also not its fault that it accidentally followed the light and flew into my room. To punish it for something it did according to its own instincts doesn’t seem fair to me. So I’ll try later to guide it somehow gently out of my room. Maybe that would be a profession with a future: insect pilot. Quite right with a fancy uniform and a cool flat cap. I would always adjust it professionally and gaze into the distance with a meaningful glance when someone asks me about my job. Then I answer in a calm voice: “Profession? No, my friend. What I do is a true vocation. I save lives”. Sunglasses on. Cut. CSI Miami scream in the background. Please tell me I’m not the only one with such weird thoughts. There must be more people who are obsessed with completely obscure ideas. Or? Or?! Crazy life. I really would not have thought that I would spend several days working through this “morning” ritual of writing. I must confess that I am a little proud of myself. One might still be allowed to say that. One does not have much else. Live and don’t think about tomorrow. Wasn’t that a Bollywood film that was released a few years ago? I seem to remember that I watched it several times as a child. Why does that occur to me right now? I have no idea. My head is confused. Probably another consequence of insomnia. Does anyone still read this at all? Oh, it doesn’t matter either. I haven’t published any of it yet anyway. Joke’s on you. I am so funny, I know. Thank you for asking. Humor is always a question of perspective and at the moment mine is the only relevant one. What an incredibly comfortable position.

22.04.2019

22.04.2019

How fitting. This title occurred to me in the shower. Admittedly, “The Morning After” sounds somehow better – it’s something similar to “The Day After Tomorrow” – but currently I’m still writing for a predominantly German audience (Note: That changed, obviously). Speaking of writing. This writing here, yes, exactly what is happening at this very moment, is what I am doing for the first time. Right after getting up (ok, fine, after taking a shower in the morning), but before almost everything else. After waking up, I read a very long (and worth reading!) article by Mandy Stadtmiller in which, among other things, she wrote about making so-called Morning Pages – uncensored, not subsequent, free thoughts that just pour out of me – basically exactly what I’m doing right now. She said that it would be best to do this in handwriting, but since my handwriting would also pass as a veritable tool of cryptography, it wasn’t exactly up for discussion for me. During the shower I also wondered whether I should publish these thoughts. Ideally on my new blog, which I have been postponing for months, although I already have all kinds of ideas for it in my head and some people might even be entertained by it. Irony of my life: Only a few days ago I finished a chapter about self-motivation, which contains more than twenty thousand words and which suggestions actually work according to experience – IF they are implemented at all. Anyway, this implementation is such a strange thing anyway. After reading Stadtmiller’s article and thinking about whether I should just try this morning writing, I immediately thought of a lot of reasons why I shouldn’t do it. It’s useless anyway. You will do that once and never again. But whoa, I could also play this pretty fun video game instead, which I bought a few days ago. Obviously, my mind is already quite used at sabotaging me. Why didn’t it work this time? I don’t know. Maybe I had some kind of awakening experience. I just went through a waking phase of about 30 hours and now I slept a good 7 hours. It’ s the middle of the night (or early morning), everything is quiet and somehow I thought to myself: Oh, why not? Just do it. That’s something I like to say in other situations. Simply confronting people with fait accompli. But not only those abstract “people”, but also quite practical and real myself. Just do. Not so much brooding over whether and why and at all, but just saying “Fuck it” and putting it into practice. Afterwards I can still say that this was a stupid idea. But hey, at least I tried. And yes, I know it all sounds like this terribly pathetic motivational rambling, but it doesn’t make the insight hidden in it any less true. Sometimes simple things are actually as true as they are effective. Writing. There was something else. I sometimes have difficulties motivating myself to write. Ha! Especially me! Oh, the irony. My own ambition to write absolutely great, super fantastic texts that everyone loves doesn’t necessarily help, because reality and all that. It is rather unlikely that everyone likes what I write. Meh. But at least I can get better by just writing more frequently and creating more. Trivial knowledge, I know. But with writing, or more broadly, with the human mind, it’s the same as with its body: without constant training, it atrophies, shrinks and reduces mass. Yes, it is indeed the case that neural connections in the brain become weaker if we do not continuously carry out the activity for which they are intended. Suppose someone were to claim that the lecture on bio-psychology had yielded nothing. Body and mind are two manifestations of the same entity. What a wonderful Instagram aphorism. Hello world, let yourself be enchanted by my incredibly profound statements about life, the universe and everything in general. Ugh. I don’t know why I’ve written this now, but since the point of this exercise is to write for yourself anyway and just give in to the inner flow, I don’t have to justify myself. Ugh. That’s what you get now. You? I probably have already made the decision internally whether I share these thoughts with the outside world. Obviously I seem to have an immense need to communicate – even at the risk that no one cares what I say about myself during these unstructured mind games. But hey, you miss every shot you don’t take! Damn. I’m really good at this phrasemongering. Maybe at some point I should release one of those fancy calendars with super smart sayings that people can read while shitting. Nice. Now I’ve even managed to bring some faecal humor with me. What a multi-talent I am. Sure that I want to share it with others? It is somehow a bit … embarrassing? Weird. Funny. Strange. Somehow. Well, people are very strange animals, with often even more strange thoughts. I am certainly no exception. But woah. This morning writing thing is somehow really entertaining. Should do it more often. Good idea.
Eil bi back! [insert Schwarzenegger’s voice here!]