back to homepage
Not a single day passes without going to bed with the guilty feeling that I’ve wasted yet another day not being productive enough, and yet no matter how much I do (and on most days I get lots done), I feel as if I could have accomplished much more.
Surrounded by distraction, I strive to do good work, while at the same time, working even harder to eliminate, or at the very least, block-out distractions. It always seems to me that as soon as I get into a productive cycle, something always comes around to interrupt my creative process, be it an unexpected phone call, conversation from someone nearby, or even the sound of a slamming car door. I even went so far as to oil all of the door hinges in my house to prevent the squeaking noise every time the door is opened or closed. I did the same thing in college, when I gave everyone in my dormitory hall $1 each to let me oil their hallway door hinges so I could study and be productive.
I’m one who prefers the peace and quiet, especially while I’m working on something I consider to be of utmost importance. But most of all, I prefer to avoid unnecessary conversation. It’s not that I’m being mean or antisocial, I just usually have a lot of thoughts and ideas running circles in my head, and unrelated conversation is the biggest distraction of them all it seems.
Note To Self: Try to establish my own canon of literary works to which I deem epic, such as The Catcher In The Rye and The Great Gatsby. establish a written list, sorted alphabetically, and post it on the Internet in such a way to allow for sharing and collaboration. Well-read intellectuals and autodidacts like myself should have a place to meet and collaborate, even if such a place just so happens to be on-line.
If I could be granted just one wish, I’d wish for all of the recorded memories of my younger years, especially the recorded cassette tapes, and early webcam videos. I know it may sound selfish, but the remnants of our own playful beginnings are priceless. Angie was the one and only person to have ever read my high school and college journals before they were burned and destroyed by fire. It needed to be done as they chronicled only pain and resentment during perhaps the most bitterly painful years of my life. You know that you have found true love when you can bare your heart and soul, and your darkest secrets to your true love, and your true love loves you still.