TPA 92 A lot of things

So a lot of stuff happened while I was out of it. SAD can really take the life out of you. Which is strange because today should be the worst day. About three days ago, don't ask me why, but I felt better. I don't know what caused this change in me but the SAD left me as quickly as it entered me. Again, which is strange because today should be the worst day. Today is a snow day and I don't mean just for school. The whole area is shut down because of the snow storm that came in. The plowmen have given up because there isn't enough salt or plows to fix the roads. Right now, its a category three warning which means that if you're out there, the police can arrest you. The last time there was a day like this was when I was working for Panera. I went home with five bags of bread that day, like, full garbage bags of freshly baked bread. It was awesome. Anyway, I told myself that once I got better, I would try writing again. I'll be honest, I was scared a bit. Trying to get back on the bike after breaking your leg like that is scary. You think that you'll break something again. And that SAD didn't help me at all. No matter what I took or how much therapy I did, it wouldn't go away. Like a cold I couldn't get over. But I'm better today and I want to keep on writing. Not just because it's "good for me" but because I think its part of my purpose in life. But I need to be careful, I don't want to go back to putting the weight of my life against my word count. That's no good.

Several things happened while I was away. First, I had a strange dream that I really wanted to stay in. Like in forever. I was moving to a new apartment that was closer to my folks house. It was huge, twice the size of my current home, actually, maybe three times. Inside was a bar, which was weird to me because I don't drink beer, made out of clear plastic which made it look like ice. There was a king sized bed and outside of it was a smaller room for a guest. The main room was almost large enough for two stories. Inside was a pair of pool tables and a strange bowling game where you used a puck to knock down pins. That's all I can remember from the dream. I told my mom about it and she's always interested in my dreams. She told me to write it down so I did. 

Next, I had another "vision" if you can call it that. During a spiritual moment, I opened myself up to God and I got this image of a bitter-tasting disk wedged into my mouth. It was large enough that I couldn't swallow it but every time I swallowed water it made my mouth and throat taste awful. I think it might mean that the words going into me are bitter to my spirit. I don't know anything else to say about that.

The third thing that happened was definitely spiritual. My dad is always on the lookout for opportunities to introduce me to girls. He'll point out if a girl is looking my way or if he thinks I should introduce myself to her. He's trying to get me out there so that I can get some practice finding the right one. God spoke to his spirit and said "If you do it, it won't be as good, if I do it, it'll be better than you can imagine." So, he's stopped being on the lookout for me. He told me and my mom about this while we were at a resturant and we were both floored. It tells me that God hasn't given up on my partner in life. I don't know where or when it will be but now I know that God is on my side. Even though I make plenty of mistakes he's still got my back. Like God is my wingman or something. That's a really cool thought.

Finally, I spoke with my writing friend and she said something amazing. I told her about how I was focused on making my writing perfect and she said that if I focus on that, I can't make it perfect for the reader. Which makes A LOT of sense because if I think it's perfect, it doesn't mean that it's perfect for the reader. The reader might not have a clue on what I'm talking about if I make it "pefect." I'll just have to try my best and get better little by little. I think I can do that without blowing another gasket. I pray that God helps me grow by leaps and bounds. First, I need to fix the Cain story and then I'll work on my other short stories. Then I'll go online and ask for feedback. Let's see what I can do.

So that's all the major stuff. I think from now on I'm going to try to take it a little easier on myself. I have to remind myself that I'm not Stephen King, I'm John. And John isn't at the level of writing six pages a day, at least not yet. But this kind of thing takes time and practice and I'm willing to give it all I've got without burning myself out.