Holy Crap, I Ran Outta Room

Ok, last post, I was happily chatting away about my copy-cat style of writing, when blogger cut me off. Didn't see that coming.

Anyway, I was talking about how I might end up writing in the style of Chuck Palahniuk. It's obviously not happening now, but itmight show up in later posts.

For example, in my next post, you might see some bbad haikus. You have been warned. . .

How I Write

I'm not entirely sure if I have a real writing style or not. Looking back, I notice that I tend to take on the style of whatever author I find interesting. For example, in my first blog, I was obsessed with the writing of Lemony Snicket. For those of you with no childhood, he is the author of the Series of Unfortunate Events, a series that chroniclized the misery of the Baudelaire children. But I digress. The point is, in that particular blog, the style was so identical, it could have been written by Handler himself.

Currently though, I have been reading the works of Chuck Palahniuk. For those of you with no humor, he is the author of Fight Club. I've been reading a few of his books and seen the movie only a bah-zillion times, so as a result, I have been slipping into his style of writing, even to go as far as to mentally narrate myself as if I were a character with an audience of readers. So don't be alarmed if you notice a slight similarity. I hope to grow out of this habit

Ok, I Lied. . .

The first idea I had about this blog was that I was going to write essays about stuff that truly mattered to me. Y'know, current events, touchy topics, philosophies, peanuts...just what ever came to mind. But I've realized that most of my time is spent not caring, and hoping that what will be, will be.

So what's gonna happen is, I'm going to just ramble about whatever is bugging me, or stuff I just don't tell people, kind of like the telephone thing, and if an essay or intelligent thought makes it to a post, so be it. 

Talking on the Phone

People don't especially enjoy talking to me on the phone. They're either annoyed or find it kind of funny. the thing is, I'm never entirely sure what to tell them.  A typical conversation will go like this:


'Hi!
-hello.
'How have you been doing?'
-fine.
'What have you been up to? How is school coming along?'
-fine.
'Are you still making good grades?'
-sure.
'How's your brother?'
-he's fine. . .


The conversation will continue like this until the caller on the other end finally realizes that I'm not going to elaborate or ask about them at all. I don't mean to come across as rude, but sometimes I honestly don't care or I feel annoyed/threatened because they feel they have the to ask generic questions over a phone and talk like . I've been trying to improve my phone etiquitte, but when the oppertunity presents itself, I resort to my one word answers and pray for the line to suddenly cut off to save me from the awkward good bye I know is coming.


I wish I was a people person, but at the same time, I'm really glad I'm not.

Brief History...

Wow, I have to say, I didn't expect to find myself here again, yet here I am on blogger once more.

I've tried to start a blog twice before, once about five years ago, and the other a year or so after. But each time, I found myself lacking motivation to continue. The first reason is due to my extreme lack of attention span.

Seriously, it's really bad.

The second reason is because I felt like I was just talking to the wind, and it's really hard to keep talking when nobody is listening. Gets really awkward really fast. The last reason was that I hated writing, and as it turned out, blogging required alot of writing.

But lately, I've kinda been compelled to write. About what is still kinda in the works. At first I tried poetry, but I haven't written a peom since like fifth grade, so that was a bust. Then I figured since I have a guitar, I could write a song. That was pretty traumatic and I rather not have that process repeated. But I've lately realized that I'm pretty good at essays.

When I think of essay writers, I think of all those short stories we had to read in highschool about the random thoughts that the authors had on whatever was occurring in the 1800s. But I figured essays should make a comeback.

So here I am once again. Talking to the wind, hoping for a response. But if not, I try to press on anyway. Maybe as a diary perhaps.