Crumpled Writing

Sunday, September 26, 2004

After writing and crumpling three times, I’m hoping for something more. As improbable as it sounds, with everything going on lately in my life, I find myself with little to talk about, and staring at this empty screen isn’t improving my confidence.

Ah, hell. I don’t know what I’m talking about. Since right before I moved from Houston, I haven’t been able to put down a coherent thought. First, the excitement of the move stole my voice. During the silence, I found that the longer I didn’t write, the easier it was not to write. It’s been more than a month since then, and I find myself here today: sitting on the campus in front of a frothing fountain trying to find my muse.

It’s a beautiful day in Seattle. The sun burnt through the cloudbank early in the afternoon, and the air is now clear and cool. I’ve rediscovered productivity at work, and it’s a nice feeling. I no longer wander the halls trying to thrash time until it surrenders, and I arrive at the castle. For the most part, I’m interested in what I’m doing and learning. As I’ve become more comfortable with working, I’ve discovered that next to a challenge, learning is vital to my happiness at work. If I find myself going through the motions, I grow restless and start looking for the nearest escape hatch. I searched for that hatch for about a year in Houston, and while I’m happy I found it, I don’t want to fall into the trap of always searching for the next hatch.

This entry took me a few days to put together. Most of my entries, even the longer ones, were written in one sitting, with a minor editing session after posting. Because of the effort it’s taken me to put down these measly five paragraphs, I put off posting this musing. But as I sit down, ready to espouse on some thematic and relevant thoughts, I find that I want to talk about unrelated items. My experiment at holding back the musing to create an organized essay failed.