A slow culmination of ridiculous, beautiful, and ugly. Ugly? Yes ugly.
is it weird that when I need to relocate myself to find creative discipline I end up in the bathroom? It’s really warm in here, the space is tight and cozy (I’m a fan of small spaces), there are no distractions (other than the computer itself)(one minute break!), and I just some how feel the concentration and desire to work.
At the National Book Festival during the Junot Diaz’s lecture, he confessed that when he wants to finish a book, or is on the last 50 pages and doesn’t want to be interrupted, he locks himself in the bathroom and reads on the edge of the toilet. This anecdote makes me feel less weird about my own thing.
Okay, just thought I’d internet share that I frequently write from the bathroom and wish I would have discovered this small yet significant fact about myself when I was in undergrad (I had it nailed down when I did my editing program. boom.)
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