For those you who know, via occupation, Internet research or
my ramblings, pancreatitis is a terrible disease. It is rare, enigmatic,
unpredictable and frustrating beyond comprehension. Depending on the research
you believe, it occurs in approximately 4-8 per 100,000 people. Some of this, I
believe has to do with misdiagnosis, ignorance or just plain lack of knowledge
on the subject. In fact, I have a wristband, in the spirit of awareness
campaigns, for my disease made by a friend of mine who I believe is selling
them if I’m not mistaken
To be frank, I don’t know where this rant is going.
Sometimes when I write, I start with a simple idea and then expound upon it. I
usually do not have anything completely done but I open up my head and let it
pour out; unedited and pure. Then I will review it once for making sense and
grammar via Word checker and go with it. I do not believe in over editing. If
you look at something enough times you will find edits and you have to draw the
line somewhere. For rants and blog entries, that line is 2. In school papers
that line is 4-5. Hell sometimes I don’t even have an idea, I just sit down and
start writing
Writing has always been cathartic for me and its one of the
few things that I think I do well. I used to do a lot more of it but I’ve
slacked off not for lack of time but for lack of just motivating myself and
sitting down and doing it. Sometimes I have a point, sometimes I don’t. And as
many of you also know, I love to tell stories and I have a lot of them. I’ve
lived a lot in my 45 years and have forgotten very little about. People say
that I write like I talk. Those who have seen both will probably agree, those
who haven’t are probably not surprised.
One of the interesting parts about rambling is that since
you never had a goal to start with, you can stop anywhere and no one will be
the wiser. When I get like this, I just write until the flow of ideas stop. But
it does help to at least develop some semblance of a goal otherwise will
audience will think you’re just a rambling mess and stop reading as I fear some
people have.
But now a new factor has come into play. The pain; it is a
double-edged sword. On one hand it can be therapeutic to write and let things
out but on the other hand it distracts my brain and makes it hard to focus,
remember and communicate in general. So you’re stuck with my rants just as I am
stuck with this damn pain. Forever. And that’s a might long time. The words
rest of my life haunt me sometimes and occasionally send me into a state of
sadness. I do emerge from it. The length of time directly correlates to the
level of pain and how much I dwell on it. And since I am in near constant pain
of some level, I fear I will never be as good of a writer as I could be and as
my talent should reflect.
So I know this is long and different from other entries but
this is basically it. No witty no pop culture references, no relevant personal
experiences. Just me because it’s just one of those nights that happens and
will continue to. Now and always. It makes me sad, it makes me angry but it
also makes me, me. Does not define or control but just..is. Peace
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