02 March 2009

One ought only to write when one leaves a piece of one's own flesh in the inkpot, each time one dips one's pen.

For the past couple of days, I've been getting inspiration to write from the most random sources. The 60-degree, thunderstorming weather we had on Friday became treacherous snow and freezing rain on Saturday, in turn transforming to a regular blizzard and 20-degree chill yesterday. I always get a longing for something awesome to happen during strange weather, especially thunderstorms. And the dangerous drive on Saturday night back from a leadership retreat to Bristol, VA made me irrationally excited instead of fearful for my life.

On top of the weather, everyday activities like listening to music, playing games, and Twittering the conversations I have with my friends so I can remember them for future material have made me wish I had more time to write. Even with today, a snow day, I was too busy to slow down long enough to let my mind rest in some breezy narrative. I can't wait until it's my full-time job and I don't have to let school be my first priority.

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