After a few posts about the wonderment of life, I’m back to bitching about doing morning pages.
I wish these pages weren’t just a check in, a list of grievances or a list of things to do. I wish I was writing a brilliant piece of work. If only I could write pages of an epic and important something-or-other that could somehow influence the world in a positive way. Of course, it would be turned into a bestselling book and naturally, a blockbuster movie starring an A-list actor or two. People from around the world would talk about my writing. I’d walk into a used bookstore in Bangladesh and see my 47th printing available for sale.
The reality is that not only will no one read the morning pages I write, even I’ll probably never read them unless I’m scrounging around for a pithy line or two to tweet.
Do you ever feel like this, dear reader? That your morning pages suck ass and you’re wasting time writing about all the crap that you don’t ever seem to get to the good stuff?
Sure, who doesn’t?
If you do, let me know, because I feel like it’s something we all think about but no one ever talks about. It’s a secret club that is so secret that no one knows about each other.