Five Perks to Wearing a Face Mask

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Wearing a face mask in public has been mandatory in light of the pandemic plaguing the world.

To some, it is seemed as a restraint to freedom. How can one breathe free when there is a piece of cloth plastered to their face, right? Yeah, well that free air might be rather infectious with something that is not freedom.

Anyway, aside from the rather obvious reason that face masks help prevent the infection of the virus, here are five additional reasons why wearing a face mask is not all that bad. Continue reading “Five Perks to Wearing a Face Mask”

I Don’t Feel Like Writing

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I don’t feel like writing today,
Words don’t seem to come my way,
The cursor keeps blinking away,
Nothing from my brain, hurray!

I mumble, and I grumble,
My fingers all a fumble,
This state I’m in, laughable,
On this block, I fall, stumble.

I guess I won’t be writing,
I’ll lounge around, reading,
Or catch up to some watching,
I am done with the typing.

-Jomz Ojeda


I really should be doing something, but here I am procrastinating by writing. Haha…

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I hope you have a nice day.

I Can Rarely Write on Weekends

Writing involves thinking.

Well, at least for me, I’d have to think about what I’m writing, tap it on a keyboard, and see what I have managed to string together. If it’s garbage, I’d start hitting the backspace faster than a monkey infected with the rage virus. If it somehow makes sense, the words stay on screen.

man using laptop computer
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Simple enough process, right?

Weekends, though, I barely have time to think.

Continue reading “I Can Rarely Write on Weekends”

That time I was writing…

person using keyboard beside phone and coffee cup
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“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I heard a voice which rumbled like a rolling boulder. I looked to my left, I looked to my right, and I even looked above my shoulder, behind me. No one was there. The room where I have been sitting in front of the computer was as empty as a poor man’s wallet.

I poised my hands to begin typing. I cracked my knuckles and aimed my index finger to hit the first key.

“I said, what the hell are you doing?”

The voice rumbled once more.

“Hello?” I tried to speak to the disembodied voice. “I’m trying to work? Writing?”

“That blank screen does not look like work in progress to me…” It replied.

“I-I don’t know where to start.”

“Do you even have a story?”

“Yes, yes I do. It’s about this group of adventurers who – ”

“YAWN.”

The nerve. The disembodied voice in my room yawned loudly.

“Just hearing you talk about your plot is making me sleepy. My grandma can tell a more compelling story about her laundry.”

Despite being insulted, I was mildly intrigued. What could this compelling story about laundry be?

“I’d like to hear about this laundry story, if you don’t mind.”

“I do mind,” it said. “It’s a really good story, but I don’t feel like talking to you. And you have the balls to call yourself a writer…”

“Why, yes, I am a writer.”

“Then write, damn it. Show me some good stuff. Stop making excuses and just write. If you don’t know where to begin, then start at the very beginning.”

“B-but that would be a boring way of telling the story.”

“Do you even have a complete story? From top-to-bottom complete?”

I could not reply. Of course my story was not completed. I did not even know how the story will end.

“Your silence is enough. Work on the story first. If it is as interesting as you say it is, then perhaps a few editing tricks could be enough to make your work much more entertaining and interesting than a straight telling of the events.”

“Now, I’m going to go pester other authors. By the time I get back, you better have a complete story. Alright?”

I nodded, and instantly found myself testing if my keyboards were drool-proof.

 

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