the well is dry

If asked to describe myself with a few key words, I feel almost certain that “ambitious” would not be on the list. This is not to say that I don’t have certain aspirations, but I would not go so far as to call them ambitions. Specifically, I want to talk about a certain aspiration of mine that I have trouble with: writing.

The written word can be as much of an art form as music, painting, and performance when used gracefully. As with any art, each artist has his or her own particular style. I consider myself somewhat whimsical, with an inexplicable (and unapologetic, damn you) adoration for alliteration abounding and a passion for a purposeful plethora of parenthetical punctuation (case in point, every single post that I’ve submitted so far on this site has contained at least one parenthetical aside; it’s just how I roll, baby). My grasp and control of the English language is a personal point of pride, and I adore the written word as a true art form, but what is an artist without imagination and inspiration?

Ah, now we come to the crux of my aforementioned trouble. The well is dry; to be perfectly honest, I hold some doubt as to whether the well was ever…well, wet.

Allow me to explain; to elaborate; to explicate; to expound; to, dare I say, elucidate.

Once an idea has taken root (in the well; I don’t care if it doesn’t make sense, just go with it), my mind is capable of creating the entire tree; every branch, leaf, knot, and twig starts growing and taking form beautifully. My problem is in finding a seed (something to write about) and in finding a mental connection that I feel will plant said seed (so that it can, you guessed it, take root). For example, consider the majority of my college papers. I spent more time staring at a blank screen than I spent writing them. Once a single sentence, regardless of its eventual placement in the paper, managed to make its way to the screen, the rest would just flow from my fingertips, but finding that first sentence was a (pardon my English) bitch. The main reason for my previous (and potential future) lack of activity here is this very issue; the initial idea and a connection to that idea.

I found the seed of a novel, half a decade ago. The damn thing just won’t plant.

failing to follow through

For the less perceptive among you, it has been over a year since I last submitted my words for your eyeballs. Fun fact: it took nearly a year for the aforementioned previous submission itself to appear before you. Having said that, take a moment to appreciate the title of this particular submission; go ahead, I’ll wait a tic for the point to sink in.

Though I hardly think it necessary, I do feel that saying it outright is going to be conducive to my thought process as I type: I have always had (and will likely continue to have, to certain degrees) a problem following through with a great deal of things. I have fleeting ideas that I take initial steps to realize, but over time, these ideas (and the efforts I have put into realizing them) fall by the wayside, and slowly fade away. I wouldn’t say that I’m unreliable, I just either fall into this sort of ennui or my aforementioned social anxiety kicks in about most of my goals which result in their inevitable failure. They go out not with a bang, but with a prolonged whimper (sorry for the paraphrasing there, T.S.).

My mind is positively alight with examples, but I think I’ll narrow it down to one of my more recent shortcomings. I made a resolution at the start of this year, you know. I was going to put in a conscious effort to community with my friends and family on a regular basis. I bet you can imagine how that worked out, hm? Think back and count the number of times I’ve chatted with you this year, be it via call, text, IM, Facebook comment, email, smoke signal, Morse code, or any other method of communication you can imagine. Having a hard time coming up with a non-pathetic number, right?

Yeah.

Now, the most important part: why? This is not directed at the specific example of communication, but at the habit itself. Why does this pattern exist? Why, when I am obviously aware of it, do I not change it? If I knew, then perhaps I could. I have a feeling that it may have to do with my self-esteem issues. I don’t think I’ll be ultimately successful in any of my efforts, so the motivation to see them through to the end is non-existent. If that’s the case, all I need to do to ensure that I follow through is…solve my crippling lack of self-esteem (future edit: oh god this old stuff is hard to read sometimes).

Let’s see if I follow through on that.

[edit fRoM tHE fUTuRe!: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha my dissertation.]