So I finally did it

I finally wrote the paper.  I wrote it the best that I could but I cannot say I feel great about it.  Somehow I have a sicking knot in my stomach.  My head just hurts something fierce.

You would not believe how hard it was to convince myself to actually try to write.  Every topic bombed when I put my pen to paper.  Seriously.  I would start writing and the topic would literally keel over.  It did not matter how much material I had on the subject or how interested in it I was.  It just bombed.

I finally end up writing a puff piece on the importance of CASA and GAL workers.  I would publish it here for review but I'd rather *NOT* tank my own paper, thank you very much!  Publishing my own paper online after I turn it in is a great way to get accused of plagiarism.

By the way, do you have any idea how hard it is to locate the APA citation for a live lecture or presentation?  Well, it is do-able but you have to dig to find it.  Be creative, my friends!  It pays off to dig.

Okay, short post tonight.  I am way too tired and my head is seriously killing me right now.  Too many late nights with writer's block!  Would you like to know something strange?  I actually thought I could write about something yesterday.  Seriously.  I mean write write.  Like I used to write.

I was analyzing one of the pictures that one of the professional photographers put up on G+ and the picture actually started to tell me its story.  Everyone kept commenting about how beautiful it was and how vivid the colors were.  I could see how beautiful it was but I couldn't help but notice how sad and lonely it was too, as if it were the last place on earth.

There was a lonely river running through the mountains and a slight misty haze in the distance.  A large dead tree stood in the middle of the frame.  It was the sort of place that a sad, lonely young man or woman would go to plead in solitude for their misery to end.  Very sad.  Tragic, really, and all anyone could say was how beautiful it was.  So ironic that they missed the pain in the photograph.

In my mind I can see someone coming there in the early morning when the mists are still heavy, in hopes that no one will see them, as they gaze down over the ravine edge at the still, green waters below, wondering if it wouldn't be less complicated to just jump.  Before the sun comes out and clears the fog and they return home to do the chores before they are missed.  Another day has come and gone.

It is not a happy image.  It is a lonely image which matches the title the photographer gave the photograph.  He called it Desolate Beauty.  He is quite correct in his title.  I tried and there is not a happier imagine to associate with it.  I wonder if he was sad the day he shot that image.

I know I was not sad when I viewed it, but the image it evokes is still the same.  Strange.  Nonetheless, the image is still beautiful.

Okay, I was beyond exhausted three hours ago.  Goodnight.  Hopefully I will have sweet dreams to sweep that sad image away!