Dude, I can't writing. · 4:15pm Jul 24th, 2014
Lemme put this straight. I love writing. Almost as much as I love writing, I love reading. But sadly, I cannot claim that I am good at either of those. So instead of going on about how terrible I am at expressing myself without horrific errors being strewn throughout like a trail of corpses, I'm going to accept my "style", as it is called by some, and adopt it into my writing.
What do I mean by that? Well, to be frank, I like to exaggerate, extrapolate, and stretch. I love to take words and phrases and turn them into toys that I can bat around as I watch them dangle. It's what I enjoy, and I can't exactly do that by conforming to the literary tastes of the general populace, or aspiring to imitate the powerful prose, and fantastical phrase forging of others.
I must be me. And you must be you. And so shall it be, in all that we do.
Now, given this making of mind, there might be a slight change in plans I had before. I shall continue to write, as is expected of me, but I shall no longer be attempting any "conforming", as that is a most painful and disappointing road for me. Not conforming has also been painful, but it's more fun and relaxing when I don't have to worry about the fickle opinions of others (all opinions are fickle, so that description was redundant).
Despite this new desire, I will not ignore my audience, nor shall I attack their lack of taste, but I will see to it that every reader is loved, and every viewer is satisfied. Get out of me what you will, I hope you enjoy it.
I will continue to create the stories that I so dearly love, and I have plans for them that involve plenty of smooth, soothing adventure, and many others that shall invoke the wrath of the deities relaxation. Maybe I shall accumulate a few other writing styles along the way, as each story demands a different approach. But most of the time, I shall seek consistency in the exhumation of letter clumps through my fingers.
This is the conclusion that I have reached after an agonizing 10 minutes of profound pondering. And so, for better or for worse, here I go.
Spambled eggs,
PiercingSight
