Good men fail everyday, Clark. Great men fight on until they get it right.
- Joe Kelly, "A Hero's Journey"
"Tell me I did the right thing. Tell me I didn't just give away my dreams."
"What does your heart tell you?"
"For the first time in a while... it's telling me a lot of stuff. The least of which is I have a book to finish."
- Joe Kelly, Legacy: The Last Will and Testament of Hal Jordan
"Hope Springs Eternal"
Around this time of year, I always have a week in which I feel this odd sense of peace. It's a long stretch in which I'm just content to be and it's the best feeling in the world. It's nice not to make myself miserable over everything. It's great to take a break from looking for reasons to kill myself.
Unfortunately, it doesn't make for good writing. I mean, storytelling works on a simple concept: conflict. Without it, writing tends to suck. For example, this is the stuff I ended up not blogging about today:
Last night's Six Feet Under... How the days in which you're drunk at five in the afternoon tend to be good days... That time me and Smith blinded people with the overhead projector... Shakespeare's Pizza... The possibility of spending Spring Break holed up in Brent's apartment... That time in Mrs. Schaefer's English class when we were about to start reading Huckleberry Finn, and as an exploration of themes, Shaefer asked for a show of hands of how many people in the class agreed with the statement that two people of different races couldn't be best friends, and Smith and I, in a brilliant display of not only comedy, but synchronicity both threw our hands up at the exact same time... My personal Frankie Hector... Stitch reading The Ugly Duckling... Books you don't appreciate until the second time you have to read them... The fact that tomorrow will be the first Tuesday or Thursday in weeks in which I don't have to go to Hinshaw Properties to sign a lease... Chillin' with yo' dogz... Joe Kelly comics... Watching Almost Famous for the first time this year... Harry Potter meets Hellblazer... That time me and Smith were shocked when Mrs. Roeder wanted a hall pass from us. Come on. Didn't she know who we were?... The many incarnations of Penny Lane... Asteroids... As Good As It Gets... Michael Chabon short stories... Samurai Jack... The prospect of having a room of my own... My little sister watching Dora the Explorer... Andy Stochansky songs... The end of American Beauty.
I could have written about any of these topics gleefully for hours. And it would have bored the shit out of you. Seriously. You'd just be sitting at home in front of your computer amidst a pile of your own steaming excrement. Or worse, you'd be sitting in some computer lab amidst a pile of your own steaming excrement. How embarassing, right? And then you'd blame me... and rightfully so, I might add.
Face it... nobody likes to see a happy duckling.
Relax.
Life just ain't that bad.
- Joe Kelly, "A Hero's Journey"
"Tell me I did the right thing. Tell me I didn't just give away my dreams."
"What does your heart tell you?"
"For the first time in a while... it's telling me a lot of stuff. The least of which is I have a book to finish."
- Joe Kelly, Legacy: The Last Will and Testament of Hal Jordan
"Hope Springs Eternal"
Around this time of year, I always have a week in which I feel this odd sense of peace. It's a long stretch in which I'm just content to be and it's the best feeling in the world. It's nice not to make myself miserable over everything. It's great to take a break from looking for reasons to kill myself.
Unfortunately, it doesn't make for good writing. I mean, storytelling works on a simple concept: conflict. Without it, writing tends to suck. For example, this is the stuff I ended up not blogging about today:
Last night's Six Feet Under... How the days in which you're drunk at five in the afternoon tend to be good days... That time me and Smith blinded people with the overhead projector... Shakespeare's Pizza... The possibility of spending Spring Break holed up in Brent's apartment... That time in Mrs. Schaefer's English class when we were about to start reading Huckleberry Finn, and as an exploration of themes, Shaefer asked for a show of hands of how many people in the class agreed with the statement that two people of different races couldn't be best friends, and Smith and I, in a brilliant display of not only comedy, but synchronicity both threw our hands up at the exact same time... My personal Frankie Hector... Stitch reading The Ugly Duckling... Books you don't appreciate until the second time you have to read them... The fact that tomorrow will be the first Tuesday or Thursday in weeks in which I don't have to go to Hinshaw Properties to sign a lease... Chillin' with yo' dogz... Joe Kelly comics... Watching Almost Famous for the first time this year... Harry Potter meets Hellblazer... That time me and Smith were shocked when Mrs. Roeder wanted a hall pass from us. Come on. Didn't she know who we were?... The many incarnations of Penny Lane... Asteroids... As Good As It Gets... Michael Chabon short stories... Samurai Jack... The prospect of having a room of my own... My little sister watching Dora the Explorer... Andy Stochansky songs... The end of American Beauty.
I could have written about any of these topics gleefully for hours. And it would have bored the shit out of you. Seriously. You'd just be sitting at home in front of your computer amidst a pile of your own steaming excrement. Or worse, you'd be sitting in some computer lab amidst a pile of your own steaming excrement. How embarassing, right? And then you'd blame me... and rightfully so, I might add.
Face it... nobody likes to see a happy duckling.
Relax.
Life just ain't that bad.
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