Well, Shit
Indeed. Hi everybody. Been a while. I suppose I owe you an explanation for my absence. Several months ago, my trusty HP Pavilion G6 (like a G6!) died without ceremony some time in the night. It felt no pain, dying as it did in its sleep. Personification aside, I had lost my means of writing and posting stories. I had also lost several years worth of work, including several unfinished stories that were going to go up here in a matter of weeks.
So, being poor (and now a college student; more on that in a moment), I did not have the means to purchase a new laptop, or to write more stories. I went into a bit of an existential funk, wherein I lost all sense of my creative identity, drowning as I was in a metaphorical shitstorm because of an awfu…
Fuckin' Roommates, Man
So I was awoken about a half an hour ago to something scratching against my leg under the covers. I thought it was part of a dream at first, but the movement didn't stop when I moved. I snapped awake and sat bolt upright in my bed, my first bleary thought being "Fucking cats" because my roommates' cats are slippery assholes that can get into anything.
But then, out of the darkness next to my bed, I heard someone say, "Whuh," and realized that it was my roommate Shaun.
"Shaun?" I mumbled sleepily.
"Bender?" he answered.
"You trying to crawl into bed, amigo?" I asked.
"Ahh. Yeah."
"You lose your way, bro?"
"Yeah. Sorry dude."
"It's all good, you scared the fuck outta me though, man. I thought it was a rat or something."
I pictured him in the dark, st…
Irony?
Well, friends, I mentioned a while back that I worked at Buffalo Wild Wings. No longer. I quit in the second half of November, getting a job at a local restaurant as a cook. Said restaurant specializes in pasta. The irony didn't really occur to me until a couple of weeks ago. I write pastas for fun... And cook pasta for a living. Tonight, we ran a shrimp scampi with garlic, butter, sundried tomatoes, and white wine over linguini for a special. It was delicious.
Is this irony or some other device I'm not educated enough to know the name of?
Misery and Creativity
My whole life I've been taught that pain produces the greatest art. Not necessarily physical pain; not even necessarily pain. Stress, strife, anger, all synonyms in this context for the catalyst of creation, that spark that allows us to make.
I thought that was silly. I've been creating things my whole life, be it drawing or writing or making incomprehensible shapes out of sculpey. I was never miserable. In fact, on the contrary, it brought me great joy and satisfaction.
Until recently, I hadn't really thought about that connection in depth. I've been out of high school for a couple years now, and have been working at Buffalo Wild Wings for the last eleven months. I don't need to tell you that I hate my job. My managers are clueless. Half th…
Who's Responsible For This?
I've only been on here for maybe a month now, but I've noticed that an alarming quantity of the pastas posted are just terrible. I'm trying to do my part with the editing and what not, but at what point do we have to tell people to just not bother? I can fix any number of spelling errors, punctuation errors, confusion of tenses, but there's nothing I can do to fix bad writing.
It's pretty demoralizing to see so much garbage content uploaded daily. It's almost like all the good stories have already been written and now it's just children copying the old stuff and hoping no one notices. We as a community really need to try harder to foster talent and creativity.