Today, I shall write for the sake of writing. Because that is apparently how great writers write. There is this one famous author, I forget his name, who said he used to sit down and just write for at least two hours every day. What he wrote did not have to make sense or have any cogency of purpose. His ideology was that that by training oneself to write on command that would aid the creative process tremendously. I guess that would be something like a great speaker deciding to speak gibberish continuously for hours on end or a great serial killer killing you know some local sheep or goat everyday, so that his true creativity could shine when he went off on his human kills. But is this stuff true? We shit and eat everyday. By now we should have evolved into a world of great shitters and eaters. I mean you know, we would know the perfect position to ensure a most satisfactory bowel movement or the perfect way to eat and digest a nice cheesy slice of pepperoni pizza.
But its not so is it? I sometimes have satisfactory shits and sometimes I eat too much and temporarily evolve into a sloth who couldn’t move an inch to save his lazy life. Note though, I in no way intend to demean or poke fun at said authors method, though I blatantly just did, ensuring that I am also a hypocrite by the way since while making fun of the authors methodology I am currently just letting my thoughts fly with no semblance of order or perspective. This is pure unadulterated unfiltered me. And pure unadulterated unfiltered me seems slightly arrogant and very bored. But thats all for today. Sayonara and carpe yourself some diem.