Yeah, Henry Rollins is pretty freaking awesome for alot of different reasons, that picture is just one of them.
So, I was writing, sort of and I was thinking about how ridiculously long it takes for me to finish a chapter of this novel. Mostly, it's because I don't have a home computer and I write from work usually, and then I print out what I write, read it and continue from where I left off and THEN I type the newest stuff into the manuscript. Anyhow, I remember back when I was reading 'On Writing' by Mr. King, he mentioned that Rollins was the sort of author to keep writing the same chapter over and over until he gets it right. It takes ages to finish a book, but when it's done, it needs little to no editing.
And that's exactly what I do...which is why I'm only on chapter three. I keep trying to stop myself from doing it. Like, I'll write and then I'll put it away and not look at it--and then I end up looking at it anyhow because I have absolutely no self control when it comes to things like this. I can't help it. I like to torture myself and I think there is something seriously wrong with me. I'm not a perfectionist in too much of anything in life, but when it comes to writing, I have to get as close to it as possible. I think I'm the sort of person it's going to end up killing in the long run.
The funny part about it is, that for years--hell for most of my life no one has really understood how important writing is to me. Like, if I wasn't writing, I would be completely screwed up right now. Some in my family like to brush it off as a hobby that I happen to be particularly good at, but a hobby all the same. And I've let it poison me a little at times. I wasn't being realistic. Realistic is...praying and struggling to get a job with a place that I'm interning at, even though I don't really want to be there. God, those things are SO not me...and the sooner people stop trying to pin those expectations on me, the less disappointed they'll be with my choice of how I chose to live my life.
Really...this isn't meant to be a downer though. I'm not down...I'm just rigidly resolute right now and fully prepared to tell someone to kiss my ass.
The last few days have been rough and I'm still in a bit of a funk. I'll come out of it eventually--but instead of trying to force cheerfulness I don't feel...I'll go scribble words that don't make sense in a dark corner somewhere.
Henry Rollins is in my head and I can't get him out. That picture of him is how I feel on the inside right now. I'm an angry white man.
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