I've been worrying that my posts are too long and that I'm trying to fit too many things into these essays. The one I've been working on this week got as long as 2270 words. I managed to get it cut down to around 1850 words.
My longest essay up to this point has been my ugly "Mormon Faggots" essay. I tend to ramble so much in these things that I've been able to lift entire sections out of them and use for other essays. I think I lifted three different ramblings out of "Mormon Faggots" that could be used elsewhere. Not sure if I will but then I'm not going to promise anything.
The essay I'm currently working on was originally going to be posted on June 14th but my experience during the gay pride festival that weekend changed the way I saw a few things. Also the 3 hour drive home put me way past my bed time so the attempts I made at editing that night were akin to a cat walking on a keyboard.
My feelings had changed so much that the tone of the essay had completely changed. The change didn't stem from any specific event that weekend but more of my state of mind at the festival this year. I just pushed myself to stay in a head space that was always in the present. I avoided thinking about work or other distractions. Being active in the now like that allowed me to be appreciative of what was going on around me, to drop all judgments and appreciate that I and the people around me were experiencing and expressing our personal truths without fear of death or dismemberment.
That also allowed me to stop worrying that I might be committing some gay fashion faux pas by wearing a bright red t-shirt, khaki cargo shorts, a blue and tan baseball cap and these wonderfully eye-catching, Gothic, knee-high leather buckle boots. Incidentally, the boots were a big hit! I knew they would be. I had a lot of great complements and conversations because of them.
One conservative gay gentleman asked me why I wore them. I said, "I'm simply expressing a form of my sexuality."
To which he grinned and said, "Ah, you want someone licking your boots."
Yeah, he nailed it. He wasn't so conservative after all. LOL!
But I digress.
I'm still letting my next essay stew for a bit to make sure I've said what I want to say in the way I want to say it.
It's hard to be impeccable in writing. Obviously I'm not as prolific compared to professionals. But then I've always had a fucked up need to compare my stuff to something perfect. But what? I don't know. I just know that it's not perfect for me. There is something in my gut that isn't quite comfortable with it. It's probably my ego rather than my gut talking because I worry more about any criticism of my spelling, grammar and punctuation than I do about the content of my thoroughly elucidate, cankerous ramblings.
It's my fucking blog for crying out loud. It's for dumping my brain. If people don't like it, it's not my problem. Why would I care? Why am I so hard on myself and expect that all posts I make have to be these great literary masterpieces? I don't know. I'm still just trying to find my voice really. And I would really like to be free to just throw shit up here that is just that, shit! Why don't I? It's my space to define my way. Hell, I'm just going to start doing it now with this post. I can always fix the mistakes later if I find them.... or when someone points them out.... in a way that is helpful....
The other day a friend called me and expressed his disappointment in me. He said that he had thought that for sure I had more intelligence than that.
What did I do now?
Well, in a quick little email I had accidentally used the word "your" instead of "you're".
Oh, for fuck's sake.
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