I know that is been ages and ages since I've written, but I must admit to being so chock-full of material that I don't even know where to begin. So today I am going to steal somebody else's words and semi-cheat with the whole blog-thing. However, these are some really awesome words, and after quite a pause from writing much of anything in the past few months, I found them particularly inspiring. So here we go:

I have always held that when one writes, one should forget all rules, literary styles and other such pretensions as large words, lordly clauses and other phrases as such- rolling the words around in the mouth as one would wine, and, proper or not, putting them down because they sound so good. Rather, I think one should write, as nearly as possible, as if he were the first person on earth and was humbly and sincerely putting on paper that which he saw and experienced and loved and lost, what his passing thoughts were and his sorrows and desires; and these things should be said with careful avoidance of common phrases, trite usage of hackneyed words and the like...Art is good when it springs from necessity. This kind of origin in the guarantee of its value; there is no other.

Funnily enough, the man who penned those words I don't believe was ever published, yet those very words influenced one of the most original works I have read: Jack Kerouac's On the Road. I am enthralled by this and hope to somehow incorporate into my own writing: whatever it is that I may burst out with. But at least in the bursting out will splatter a collection of my own sorrows, worries, experiences, loves, and losses in my own way. I'm kinda excited myself to see what that looks like.