Actually, I don’t hate Sundays, I just couldn’t think of a better title for this post. I think it’s kind of funny that I choose a title and some categories for a post before I begin to write, as if I know what I am going to write when I clearly don’t. That’s the whole purpose of freewriting: to write about what comes off the top of my head with little idea of where I’m headed. The title and categories, though, may help to give me direction; they give me a glimmer of a lighted path when the way forward is dark.

Well that last sentence seems kind of pretentious. I can’t stand pretentious writing. I guess academic writing can be quite pretentious, though it has its audience and its time. I like to read other people’s academic writing. I’m not crazy about my own academic writing, though. It makes me feel like I’m faking something about my life. I don’t speak in theoretical language, though I do love to read Foucault, and reading Foucault has boosted my confidence as an academic. I love that I am able to understand his writing, even if I am reading his stuff through questionable translations. If I was truly serious about Foucault I would work on my French and try to read what he wrote in the original. But I’m not a Foucault specialist, so there is no real reason why I would need to do that.

If I were to work on my French I really would concentrate on translating a bunch of articles and books for publication. I did start to translate Carles’s and Comolli’s Free Jazz, Black Music a few years ago, but I dropped the project when I couldn’t get an answer from their publisher. It’s surprising to me that the book has never been published in English. Maybe it has been at this point. In fact, why don’t I just continue to translate the book for my own sake. Fuck the publisher. If I can’t get the English language rights then I’ll do the translation for my own benefit.

Writing, for me, has long been something that I am good at, yet I usually find it to be a burden. Writing this blog, though, has been freeing for me. I love that I can sit down, bang out 500 words, and move on. In fact, some days the ease with which I can write this blog is what brings me back for a second and third time. Yesterday I produced three posts at more than 600 words each, and I didn’t break a sweat about it. Hopefully I can find the energy to do the same today.

That being said, I need to bear in mind that the goal is really 500 words per day, not 1500. But if I have a productive day why stop?

Ah fuck it, who cares. Writing is writing, and this blog is really about adding a sense of “I don’t care” to my writing. I am writing as if nobody will read it, as Margaret Atwood stated (and as I have written in the past). Hit it and quit it. To be meaningful, though, I am going to need to re-read everything at some point, printing stuff out and combing through it like I would read a student’s writing. But for now, let’s just keep it cool and on the surface. The primary goal is still to help me relax and melt into a sense of flow with my writing.

600 words now, but somehow I don’t feel finished. Or maybe I do. Fuck it. I’m done.