Inspiration Without Concentration

I can't seem to focus. Distractions are everywhere, even on a lonely night shift at a downtown hotel. The wind whistles viciously through the doors, the radio plays Monday, Monday by the Mamas and the Papas, and faintly in the distance I hear some dummy howling at the moon, refusing to let the party die at 4am. Each of these is more than enough to break the small amount of concentration I need to write a full cohesive sentence. We're nearly at a paragraph now, and you wouldn't believe the time it's taken to get this far.

I've always thought of myself as a writer. I've always believed that I'm a great writer, and why shouldn't I be? My mom and my aunt told me how great I was a long time ago. I don't need any training, or knowledge of grammar and prose. I'm a natural. I was born to write. I'm like one of those apple cheeked, potato-faced American Idol contestants. They know they're good singers, they don't have to know about pitch or keys and fuck all y'all if you don't believe in them, because they're gonna show y'all and one day you're gonna line up to see them sing. That's like me, but with writing. The blogosphere is really just one gigantic American Idol audition show.

Where was I?...Oh right! concentration and losing focus.

Really, I just need discipline, but how do you learn discipline? Karate? I still enjoy writing, despite the humility I've gained. I'm going to keep it up and hopefully get better at it. I've even considered taking some university type English and creative writing classes. I probably won't, but I've at least considered it.

I have hundreds inspirations and ideas floating around wildly in the hollow centre of my brain. I just have no idea how to organize them efficiently. Just grasping at straws. I'm a kid with ADD going out frog hunting. Problem is that there's fireflies and minnows and other cool stuff to be caught as well. The ideas fly around like fireflies, hop like frogs, swim like minnows. I can only catch one at a time, but I'm running from lake to swamp to field trying to catch them all at once. I have no gameplan and I'm too excited to make one. I'm used to instant gratification, and I'll be damned if I waste my time getting organized.

Oh damn. Now I've wandered too far into the woods. I've forgotten my conclusion. I had one, I swear. Tip of the tongue, or tip of the fingers, rather. It had something to do with distractions and impatience, I think. Or maybe it was some sort of call for aid.

Oh well. It'll come to me.......