Pointless writing

"Writing is turning one's worst moments into money." J. P. Donleavy

I can't remember the first time I wrote well. What I mean is, the first time that I wrote something that really expressed what I wanted to say at that moment has been lost to me, and my memory. I didn't even know I wanted to write, just as I'm doing now. Nor do I remember the time I realized that I had the talent(WTF?!) and the guts to write what I wanted, because honestly I didn't thought many would read them.

I admire many writers. They're like the most brilliantly creative people for me. They make the most mundane and silly things sound larger than life, when, sometimes, they aren't.

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"Style is but the faintly contemptible vessel in which the bitter liquid is recommended to the world." -Thornton Wilder, The Bridge of San Luis Rey

A book I really wouldn't read if not for Hum1 purposes. It was definitely hard to find, and Prof. who, by the way, introduced me to many brilliant writers) wanted us to have an original copy to read from (or better yet, to own) because abridged versions are, well, abridged. Honestly I don't know the point of this blog entry, and why I'm writing it. So before this gets brilliantly un-creative, I'll stop. Now.