Taking One's Self Too Seriously?

Tucson Weather Today

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For some reason I still have not marked my choice for presidential candidate on the Republican Early Voting By Mail ballot. It sits on my shelf patiently awaiting my attention, but I simply have not been able to make a decision. And I have only about three more days to get it done.

Oh, woe is me.

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BORN ON THIS DAY

Lee Marvin

February 19, 1924 - August 29, 1987

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As usual, I have watched the Sunday Morning TV News shows, and am still doing so at this moment. Not paying much attention, though. Same old same old. And, as usual I am disappointed and possibly in danger of sliding into depression. I really do not feel like writing anything deep or meaningful at this time.

Depression? Perhaps it's because I have been reading in utter amazement from the Catholic Catechism. That might be the reason. Yes... could be.

Better watch my step these days.

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CLICK HERE

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A baby fills a hole in your heart that your didn’t know was there.
--anonymous

SOME OF THE S**T OTHER PEOPLE SAY

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Tucson Weather Today

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Medical Science

A few minutes ago I read that on this day in 1941 Virginia Woolf committed suicide... and that the chief treatment prescribed for Woolf when she suffered from depression was something known then as the "rest cure." She would be confined to her home, or to a nursing home, and not allowed to read or write, the two things she found most therapeutic and restorative to her troubled mind. Stuff like that always reminds me of the old question and answer:

"What's the difference between God and a doctor?"

. . . ????? . . .

"God doesn't think he's a doctor."

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Another item I read recently is that Nelson Algren's later novels and stories featured the down-and-out, the loser, and the reject.

Hm. Sounds like my kind of people.

In 'A Walk on the Wild Side' Algren gave his three rules for life: "Never play cards with a man called Doc. Never eat at a place called Mom's. Never sleep with a woman whose troubles are worse than your own."

Ha Ha! Now I am inclined to read A Walk on the Wild Side.

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British director Mike Newell said, "It's my view that children are violent, dirty, corrupt anarchists. Just adults-in-waiting, basically."

And once again, a quotation has suggested a theme for a new short story... now all I have to do is sit my butt down on the chair and write it.

Ha! What else is new?

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Maybe I can come up with some more interesting stuff for tomorrow's blog entry.

"Aloha..."

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"I could no more define poetry than a terrier can define a rat."
--A.E. Housman

Sometimes I Feel Like Dumping It All

Today I am in the grip of a nearly debilitating melancholy, probably created by excessively dwelling upon the responses from readers of yesterday's blog entry. My former feeling of inadequacy, my unsureness as to my ability to function as an imaginative and original writer of fiction has progressed from a vague feeling of doubt to increasing depths of despair. I can no longer blame a lack of perspicacity on the part of the readers of my stories, and must instead face the fact that I, not they, am the actual cause of this ongoing confusion. The meanings within my imaginative writing is not too esoteric, as I previously thought, but instead stem from the stories' not being properly presented, not being understandable enough.

In other words . . . I am a failure.

A failure (one who fails) has three alternatives, as I see it: to continue failing; to change to more conventional methods of communication and settle for the second-best results; or to simply abandon all futile future efforts in the field of fiction-writing.

Or, perhaps I might alter my thinking somewhat... if that be indeed possible.

I must look up the definition of quandary.


"Oh Good Grief!"

"Stop this foolishness."

"Just get on with it."

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