I feel like I’m shutting humans out of my life more and more these days, and that I rather like it. I’ve been doing a lot of my writing in my notebook and not on here. It’s not that I don’t dare share it but that I really am not in the mood. That plus pencil and paper are a nice change. I am pleased with my writing. It is varied. I gave most of my pieces titles. There are pieces I didn’t complete and I wrote “To be completed” and stopped, but never finished, or at least haven’t yet. The reason I stopped, in all cases, was that I just plain got tired, and went to sleep.
Here are the titles, in chronological order: “Standing on the Rock,” “Regarding My Inevitable Uppitiness,” “Psychotic Ability,” “Why I Cry Out in My Words,” “Escape to the Mountain,” and “Lest We Forget.” The latter is a Passover piece. Gee, I like my titles. I like the pieces, in fact.
I think of these as historical record, just saying where I’m at right now. Thus said, it seems contradictory to criticize what I have written or meddle or change them at a future date when I might be in a different space. Still, if I were to make changes, I’d tighten up “Lest We Forget” a lot, lot, lot. I can trim the damn thing to half its length and still keep the entire message and all the details in it intact. I can even do this still retaining all the refrains. I can even add more color. It would be compact and explosive, just the right thing to blow Pharoah’s army to bits. Not only that, it would fit into my carry-on….Let me not carry on with this any further or I might get into some serious international controversy…it’s nearly May and the holiday has already passed over.
“Psychotic Ability”…Well, I mean just that. Take it or leave it.
I love the way I stuck to the metaphor in “Escape to the Mountain.” Me? Stick to one metaphor only and not wander all the heck all over the place? Gee.
My blog entries are for historical record and I don’t go back and edit them. I mean, since when does one go back and…edit one’s journal?
Okay, okay, I take that back. If I had a journal that I was going to publish verbatim….Hmm….Take that back again.
If you are a writer, I challenge you: Do you have a journal that you might someday consider publishing verbatim? People do this, you know. This isn’t the same as having a blog. When you have a blog, you are writing something intended to be “out there” and you know you’re going public. I’m talking about that notebook thingy you wrote in many years ago that you never, ever intended anyone to see.
So say you’ve got a line in there in the middle of nowhere that says, “I masturbated today for like 35 minutes.” Are you going to do a Wite-Out jobbie on that?
Just think about this for a second.
Those of you who have been following my blog know how I’d answer that question in regards to my own writing. I don’t freaking care if the entire journal entry is all about how I’m moved by a piece of literature and how it shapes my writing. I didn’t write the entry for YOU, after all.
What’s in there stays there. The ugly, the bodily, the insane. For the record.
In my blog entries I pick and choose, mainly for the sake of not boring you. Of course, I know a lot of this shit might bore you, anyway.
Often, editing is censorship done for the sake of following some really dumb writing rules. I didn’t write this rule book. You didn’t write the rule book. Strunk and White? Are these old males still even alive? MLA, etc…these are for scholarly papers. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve got these books right up there on a shelf within reach and I do open them often. I like the Hacker manual a lot because my copy is spiral-bound and I like the way the index is done. It’s the “Pocket-Style” manual and I don’t see that it’s any more “pocket” or abridged than any of the others, but simply takes up less space on my desk.
I’ve got a book by someone Zandvoort on grammar that’s right up my alley. Why? I was a grammar champion in…well, yeah, grammar school. This is a little-known fact about me. I might as well boast about it because I have no place else to boast about it. I forget what you call this kind of story…I’m spacing out…oh yeah, “rags to riches”? Kinda. Naw, that’s not it.
Pure grammar is like math. Even English grammar. There’s this hierarchy of verb tenses, subject and predicate, nouns and verbs and objects, etc etc. When I was a little, little kid, it was all science to me. It was a cinch. When they quizzed me, all I had to do was use my logic and see the puzzle pieces, and I always saw them, even under pressure. It was so fucking obvious.
They put me in first grade a year early, deciding I was smart. They had this “track” system. Or I guess that was what it was called. It was not a good thing for many of the kids, and to this day is still not a good thing. I mean this on all so-called levels. It’s very, very complex. Learning is different for everyone and we all communicate differently. Kids get classified and teased because they are “dumb.” Kids get classified and teased because they are “smart.” These mean nothing, actually. What can you do? Just tune out, I guess.
It was called Advanced Placement, or AP for short, and if you had it, it was like this status that the other kids could use against you at any time. In my class, we had a few math geniuses, I mean, I swear they were sending these kids to shrinks who were doing studies on them to find out why they were so smart. There was a music genius who was performing concerts publicly at like eight or nine. I didn’t have any of this stuff that had a label, nothing public anyway. I kept stuff secret. Most of it had to do with music. When I heard music, it didn’t take much for me to see how the notes looked on the page. It was so damn simple. The music teachers knew I was good at music, as did my parents, but they didn’t know about this secret gift, these pages and pages and pages of written score. Occasionally, I put it down as hard copy, but a lot of it I just kept in my head, filed away.
Trust me, it was a completely useless skill until I got to college and they had us do what’s known as dictation. That is, the music theory teacher plunks out a bunch of notes on the piano, and the students all screw up their faces and write down the notes, or try to. I never had perfect pitch and didn’t need it for this, just a starting point. For whatever reason, some kids with perfect pitch had brain farts when it came to dictation.
So I was kinda infamous in music school for this dictation thing, having more or less jumped through the hoop on day one and sat in on the class just as a formality. But like I said, it’s a completely useless skill other than something that I did to keep myself amused.
I could write. That was rather sad. You can imagine the stuff I was writing. It was a given that anyone with the label “loser” is going to write from the bottom up. I have none of my creative writing that I did. It was all knocked down…by the system I guess, or by my parents. By anyone I spoke out against. They’d find something to criticize, something wrong with it. Of course it wasn’t perfect writing. Actually, I’m sure it was the content, the essence of what I was saying, I SEE WRONGS IN THE WORLD, that made them desperate to shut me up.
Is anything all that much different now?
But when it came to grammar, they couldn’t deny it, and I let it shine. It was my chance. I was sick of being picked on by the other kids and I was determined to show them once and for all that Julie Greene kicks ass. Yeah, loser me. They had this all-district grammar thingy coming up and the class knew about my weird and very useless mathematical grammar ability that no other kid had like I did. They voted me to represent our class. There I was, a year ahead, representing the AP class of our elementary school.
There were a bunch of eliminating matches in front of large audiences. It appeared to be a lot of pressure but I didn’t feel pressured at all. I was in my element. I could hardly wait till the next time I got called up. I never missed a question during any of these matches. Our school, our part of town, our town, our district…we won.
2012: I feel like I’m shutting humans out of my life more and more these days, and that I rather like it. I’ve been doing a lot of my writing in my notebook and not on here. It’s not that I don’t dare share it but that I really am not in the mood. That plus pencil and paper are a nice change. I am pleased with my writing. It is varied. I gave most of my pieces titles. There are pieces I didn’t complete and I wrote “To be completed” and stopped, but never finished, or at least haven’t yet. The reason I stopped, in all cases, was that I just plain got tired, and went to sleep.