in interactive class yesterday, my professor starting talking to us about writing for search engine optimization.
now, this was at the end of a 6 hour day that started out 'blah blah blah' and continued in a steady stream, ending the same way.
everything he had to say about it, i hated. i feel like i am doing really well in school, and right on track, but i somehow feel like i am only half a self.
half myself.
suddenly i'm so MATURE, so RESPONSIBLE. while i welcome this in a way... it means none, or less, of that gut-wrenching 'i completely forgot' feeling... in another way it's like, where did that self i know so well go?
where is she hiding? in my dreams limas is getting mauled by bears, and i'm sexually entangled with inappropriate people, and i'm fucking in the whisper room.
i don't want to write headlines that trick algorithms into popping me up on your screen. i want to fucking say something.
i packed all day and immersed myself in old mixes, old pictures, letters. searching my brain for the spark i don't want to lose.
i worked so hard to harness the energy into focus. that's good, i'm happy with that, but can i smudge the edges a little? if i hold the energy too tight i might throttle it.
and what will happen then? i'll be writing headlines and ledes with the hottest search phrases embedded inside, waxing journalistic on blah blah blah forever.
no.
I cannot tell you how comforting this was for me to read.
ReplyDeleteI tried to find words, but I'm empty and tired and I didn't want to quote you back to you.
What it comes down to: "I feel you."
I need sleep.
I need words that are mine.
I need pauses, the kind that commas bring. I need to hear my own thoughts echo without reason or purpose or focus, just echoing.
I need to blur the edges.
I need to smoke with you, I think, and maybe draw with crayons while listening to beats.