Be the Cat's Meow

Posts Tagged ‘writing

Lately, I feel like Hank Moody. If you don’t know, Moody is the main character of Californication played my long-term-older-man crush David Duchovny. His obstacle(s): overcoming writer’s block (and also getting his ex back).

This is how I look when I try to write these days. Actually, I pretty much have this face ALL THE TIME.

Okay, maybe I should specify that I feel like him with the exception of the promiscuous sex with many women…

…and to clarify I have a non-existent love-life…

and I do share most of his vices (once again, excluding the “women” factor and also coke use).

Anyways, what I am trying to say is writer’s block is the worst. Prolonged writers block is even worse. Writing is a meditation to me and this roadblock has been driving me insane.

I am supposed to be a writer. I am supposed to be a visionary. WHERE IS MY VISION?!?!!

Just sitting here & writing this now is like figuring out the easiest way to pull my own teeth while standing on my head.


Maybe not quite to that extent, but inspiration and creativity have seemed fleeting to me. Whenever I sit down to write it turns into me staring at the paper or computer until my eyes burn. Then I become frustrated that something that was once so easy is now inexplicably hard.

Like Moody, maybe part of my block is due to the inability to move on from a past relationship. Maybe that subconsciously was my muse. Maybe that was what sparked the imagination which lurks deep inside. Maybe. Maybe.

But alas, I am not Hank Moody and I won’t find solitude in sex-capades and trying to win back the heart of a past love.

I will continue to sit and stare hopelessly.

Hopeless as a dog chasing it’s tail.

Not quite, but sometimes it feels that way. I, however, can admit I did find solace in REM’s Everybody Hurts. The song appropriately came on the radio after a long day and brutal workout. It was bittersweet (and ironic since I was also physically hurting- but in a good way) to hear Michael Stipe gently remind me “everybody hurts  sometimes.” It was the nudge I needed to shake it off and that it is only human to feel that way (sometimes). Thank you, Mr. Stipe, I appreciate it. I will never forget when I was lucky enough to watch you live at Madison Square Garden and I may have even cried when you sang this song.

I guess Moody and I aren’t so alike after all. For now, writer’s block still plagues me and I am overly-elated that I was even able to write this sorry excuse for writing. At least it is a sign that there is hope. I doubt Moody has ever had any hope, that self-loathing hot bastard.


Social networking is pissing me off.

I mentioned this to a friend the other morning and his response was “but I have friends that use it to communicate.” My retort was, “I do too, but I try to actually talk to people instead. I’d rather be out doing stuff than posting crap online.”

I know I have gone on this rant before and it is necessary I go on it yet again.

Sadly, I don’t think the problem is solely attributed to sites like facebook. The problem lies within- that is within people. Stupid people.


Fuck, I can be crazy too. I just don’t advertise it to the whole wide www-world. What happened to having private lives? What happened to the elements of surprise when meeting new people?

At first I thought it was a great idea to share my thoughts and feelings with friends and cyber-friends, but then I realized that just gets messy.

There are those lack of judgment moments when you immediately post something and seconds later you realize the double entendres you just unleashed. Before you can delete or edit you have comments/ texts/calls from overly concerned love ones, gossip queens, nosey neighbors, jealous exes, etc.

And so the downward spiral begins. Who knew your own words had the ability to bite you in the ass so hard. This is how rumors get started, people! Cyberspace has transformed the rumor mill into a ferocious beast.

It reminds me of when I had to read Jonathan’s Swift “A Modest Proposal.” The following day in class (mind you this was in college) about half the students were repulsed by this “cannibalistic” piece and the other half were humored by Swift’s genius satire.  We all read the same thing, yet our interpretations were different. Maybe a “Modest Proposal” is a bit of a stretch in regards of interpretation, but it just goes to show that some people will take the most ridiculous things as the truth.

That’s fine. I’m over sharing any news with you, facebook. My life was fine before you and shall continue to be.

Meanwhile, Generation Z-ers cannot comprehend a world outside the realm of social networking. To be  honest I could care less about the endless, meaningless posts they make.


What is wrong with you people?! I don’t want to read/see DISTURBING posts/photos from your child that should NOT have a page. Have you not seen Dateline’s To Catch a Predator segment? Have you heard of hacking? Yes, there are those adolescents that are smart enough to make things private, but most don’t  think of that- they just want to look cool and find a bf or gf ❤ ❤ ❤ =D

The worst part is there are those parents that give two shits what their kid is doing. This is a general problem that will continue regardless, so, sadly, it is what it is. Meanwhile, the “supportive” parents are equally as bad and visibly encourage their kid to pursue a terrible idea that everyone else knows is (surprise) a TERRIBLE idea! Great job!

The infinite amount of naive and conceited banter (which we all have been guilty of [and some still are]) between this group of tweens & teens just kills me. Naturally, at the ripe age of 14, you would know everything there is to know about life.

Listen up kids, how about you log off your facebook, myspace, twitter, hi5, skype and every other damn “networking” thing you partake in and go out and ACTUALLY do something. You are not accomplishing anything with your obnoxious rants and everyone, but you, realizes that. Stop killing brain cells and read a book (not a Kindle), A BOOK!

Then you have the lovely facebook facades. As in the people that do a dance to make you believe a false reality. For example, you have the bitter breaker-upper that posts endlessly about their “new” boy/girlfriend to make their ex jealous. It seems true in a newsfeed, but really you know that this person is just trying to pour salt in the wound of the ex and he/she isn’t actually dating anyone and is obviously just online 24/7.

My favorite facade has to be the “frien-emies.” I love it when two people that hate each other (more than anyone could ever imagine) post irrelevant, impersonal comments to make everyone else think they have reconciled or, better yet, to piss off a third party. *sigh* Oh, you insane people, you…

Don’t you realize the only people you are fooling are yourselves? Reality will reveal itself in the long run, so go ahead and fabricate your lives as beautifully as you want- it is called cyberspace for a reason.

Unfortunately, social networks will only continue to grow and these situations will multiply like rabbits. Just remember 1) you can’t believe everything you see, 2) some things are better left unsaid and 3) people are stupid (aka nobody is perfect). My advice to you- go out and LIVE for crying out loud.

Farmville is not going out and living- I am talking go meet new people or call your old friends. Go on a freaking walk. Just something that doesn’t entail sitting on your ass and clicking on your mouse. Have you forgotten about the accelerated growth of obesity or the slow death of creativity and innovation? Well, that’s a whole different topic for a another day.

Just think about it.

Even if it pisses you off and you return to playing Papaya Farm after I will have succeeded because I made you THINK.

You’re welcome.

Disclaimer: Only a select few of these are based on firsthand experiences. Many of these are based on unfortunate stories I have heard.

Drafts of a poem focused on the suicide of Sylvia Plath by ex-husband Ted Hughes are now available for viewing in the British Library’s archives. Last Letter is said to be a missing piece of the Birthday Letters, his final collection which detailed his life with Plath. Last Letter details the three days leading up to Plath’s tragic end addresses his reaction to the her suicide.

The two had only been separated for five months when she took her own life in the most morbid (yet fitting) fashion- carbon monoxide poisoning by putting her head in the oven. It is uncertain whether or not the separation pushed Plath over the edge. She had struggled with depression most of her life as it was.

The copies of the poem were obviously drafts since Hughes was known for clean typed copies of finished work. The drafts of the poem were found handwritten on paper. These were the only excerpts I found posted online. I am very curious about the rest of the piece, but it will most likely be kept in the British Library and not published.

I’ve been so busy with projects that I have a major case of writer’s block. By the time I sit down pen in hand or keyboard before me my brain is already mush. Productive times like these sometimes stir inspiration- other times, not so much. Like now. Instead when I sit looking at a blank page I feel like I am examining a microcosm of my own life. A blank slate ready to be embraced by creative forces. Damn, where are these forces when I need them.

Welp…I hope inspiration bites soon, at least in the realm of writing. For now, back to Fun, Fun, Fun.


  • None
  • saracfry: Good post. Thank you. I think that you might appreciate an article I just wrote titled "The Purity of Love"
  • fullblather: Ugh. I'm happily married but I really hate Valentine's Day and the way it feels so forced. I also hate how people make it seem like something is "wron
  • matt: Be the right person, instead of looking for the right person.


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