Random story #1
Just because I need to write something in the beginning of the day. It doesn’t matter too much if it is published, unpublished, authorized or not authorized for youth. No parental guidance. No surveillance. Just me and the white page of Medium editor, which I came to love so much over the past months.
Where is the image to my story? I ask myself, but not for too long. I am getting high on words right now, and there is still a part of me that insists for this story to be published, and therefore write “something substantial”. Something of value for the reader. But this is one of the mornings when I need to detach from this urge completely.
Writing for myself, rather to suit someone else. Suiting myself now. I am writing to a set of electronic music from youtube, where I often type things like “music for writing”, “focus music” or “bamboo flute compilation”. I usually find what I look for: a background to make my words flow out smoothly through the keyboard. To the rhythm of the song — even better, but that doesn’t happen all too often.
I don’t lack words, but sometimes I lack a substantial topic to write about. That’s because it seems like everything has been said before, or is being said now, at the dawn of Medium era, where all the points of view matter. Because they do. Everyone can be a writer here and get claps if they only manage to dig deep enough into their…
