On Guarantees Or The Lack Thereof
You are guaranteed very, very little, bordering on nothing at all, in this world. There are guarantees of certain, axiomatic truths. Tautologies. So, nothing worth a shit.
You’re not guaranteed the sun will rise tomorrow, and you’re certainly not guaranteed that you will rise tomorrow. You’re not guaranteed peace, happiness, unhappiness, war, pestilence, or the winning lottery numbers. You’re not guaranteed that you’ll be able to finish a list of guarantees.
And you’re damn sure not guaranteed that the next thing you write will be any good.
How would you go about guaranteeing such a thing, just logically? You’re gonna know your next thoughts are gonna be good before you think them? Be fuckin’ for real. And just as there’s no idea too bad that it can’t be saved through amazing execution, there’s no idea so powerful, so moving and transcendental, that it couldn’t be sabotaged by the brain farts.
So, realistically, this shouldn’t be on your mind. Why waste cycles on an impossibility? You won’t know how a creative work goes until you do it any more than you won’t be positive your car will start the next time you try to go get a burrito.
Take the cap off the pen. Take the metaphorical computer cap off the computer pen. It doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about what you’re going to write and fucking go. Write something people aren’t supposed to see, and put “if you’re reading this fuck you, I don’t like you” somewhere in there to let them know. Just go. Go in with no plans, go in with no thoughts and see what happens. You have my permission for it to be bad. You should extend yourself the same courtesy.
Just go. Write about your day, or the chair your sitting in, that it’s … (More) “On Guarantees Or The Lack Thereof”