I tapped this out earlier today on my new iPad Air. (Insert joyous dancing here. Aaand… here.) It’s the first thing I really wrote on here, and I haven’t had much practice writing on a tablet yet, so… well… it’s atrocious. (Splelnig errosr evyrwhre. Blech.) But I left it almost entirely unedited, only because 1) it’s stream of consciousness, and it feels weird editing that, and 2) I thought it might be interesting for you, the reader, to see how the raw thought runs rampant around my noggin’.
I wrote for about twenty minutes without stopping, which, though different from my usual sentence-and-stop-and-think-and-coffee-and-sentence style, was my way of testing if this kind of process (i.e. writing on an iPad) is a legitimate possibility. I’m inclined to think that it may be. After all, I wrote all the above text on the iPad (with a little more, ah… delicacy?), and that worked out alright.
Without further ado, and with only enough editing to make it semi-legible, here’s a piece I (hastily, thoughtlessly) titled, “Keep Going.”
i just wanted to type without stopping, to see how many words i could put down in a block of THINK! I GUESS, AND AS LONG AS IT KEEPS COMING ILL WRITE IT DOWN. TODAY was church – just plain old church, nkthing to see here, go on your merry way – but i wonder sometimes if its supposed to be like that at all. Like this at all. Where you just keep going and the words keep coming and the. service passes the hour in the spaN OF AN UNCOMFORTble pew, and youu ponder to yourself at home on the couch, shoukd i really JUST KEEP going? Not with life – yikes. Not trying to be morbid. I mean, that “just keep swimming” thought, nope, mentality that Disney pushes and all the sick people who got better (or healthier) (physically?) (till later?) shout because, MAN, they did it! But i dunno. (I like that those word words.) As long as it keeps coming… Always coming. Never stops coming. Some times writers are dense, cuz we act like we’re waiting for God (or, to the ahteistic/unenlighgened/denying majority, The Universe) to send that infofmation/inspiration our way, as if it isnt already there! As if the devine breath has stilled for a moment, and here we sit in the quiet. Thats our trouble – we invent silence. Or could it be a cure, to save our hands from burning at the keyboard or pad or whathaveyou, for that cool breath that fills us up to bursting, fingers flying, arthritis devoloping, all so loud with clicks and clacks and ticks and cracks, and for better or worse, for quantity or quality, til death doth steal the pen from our hand, and set us to dancing, one way or another.
I cant think of a better way to practicd for living – practice for that endless worship – than to fill to bursting with breath. Stretching is, most likely, the only way to grow. (b Or I read that on the Internet somewhere. *shrugs* *types action words between asterisks* *knows brain is running out* I’ll just find a different notebook.
Ouch. If you are OCD, I apologize for all that. Good grief, if you have anything more than a 5th grade reading level, I apologize.
I just apologize to the world, I guess.
To make it up to you, The World, I’ll try and edit this into something awesome tomorrow. Seriously, though- I’m on it. This is going to happen.
p.s. This reminds me (in a “yikes, editing is really super important and if you don’t do it, the odds are that whatever comes out in the end is going to suck” kind of way,) of a post my pa wrote. >> http://www.jskogerboe.com/2011/04/29/less-noise-more-signal/
Draftily, speedily, and most editorially in your service,