Writing

July 9, 2011

Writing. I write even when I’m not writing. I have so many stories, ideas, blogs and books written in my head and a small portion of them are half or a quarter written on paper. Not paper. In Word documents. Unfinished thoughts, ideas, blogs, stories and novels. A writer writes all of the time. I used t write the way I thought and spoke. Now I speak and think the way I write. Sometimes my actual thoughts and spoken words use correct grammar and syntax more so than when I write.

 

Not everyone is a writer but everyone has a story worth writing. Everyone could be a writer. I believe everyone should write. Don’t be afraid. It’s just putting words in front of each other. Write what is on your mind. Write what happened. There are no rules. Some say that there are rules and a proper way to write. Blah.. Fuck grammar, syntax, spelling, punctuation and big words. If you can’t be creative then don’t. Just say it.

 

We all have live a rich life. Not always happy. Not always miserable but something worth writing about. Some of us struggle with day to day living and survival and it’s worth writing about. Some of us are happy and enjoy life with occasional struggles worth writing about. Right?

 

A lot of my friend send me poetry and prose that the usually keep to themselves and sometimes even hide away. These pieces of writings are some of the best I’ve ever read. I’ve published a few on my wordpress site and they even got more readers than I get. So much

 

Of all of the arts I’ve tried and even excelled at, writing is my favorite. Something about seeing what’s in my mind on paper or on a document or blog makes me happy and fulfilled no matter how bad I feel or what the topic is. I have this innate desire to share my thoughts and feelings as often as possible online and I enjoy positive and negative feedback. I am self-absorbed and like to be in charge. Writing is perfect for my ego. It satisfies my need for instant gratification. It’s one thing I can do without depending on other people. Complete control.

 

Whenever I get involved with projects whether it’s art, music or business partnerships I am the only one that has my heart in it and the others tend to fade out. They have their own dreams and lives to live. I can’t expect people to blindly follow my dreams and goals. So I write. I write. I write.

 

I may never be a best selling novelist or celebrated poet but I have people that read what I write. People like you. You must want to red what I have to say of you wouldn’t be reading this now. I guess there’s the partnership. There is also the completion of my writing. Once you read it my writing becomes more than just self indulgent self absorbed ramblings It is a complete work of art.

 

I thank you for that. I thank you for making me who I am today; A writer.


Good Day Bad Day

July 17, 2010

I woke up today in a great mood. For no reason. I didn’t even do my morning meditations yet. I was friendly to my mother as I made my coffee as apposed to the usual grumpiness I express with my “leave me alone” face. I did my morning meditations and drank some reheated coffee from last night as I waited for the fresh coffee to brew. I smoked on my grueling hot porch and it didn’t seem to bother me today. I jumped right into the project I started last night.

I decided that while I am waiting for the designer to finish up the designs for my novel that I would move on to another project. I actually have two more book projects. First I started to collect my poetry, stories and journals from the past six years into a book. I started to work on that while I was waiting to get the photo shoot together for the book cover for Yellow Socks. Second I found the disc with all of my Serial killer Coloring Books on there a few weeks ago. The problem is that they are in PDF files formatted for an 11 x 17 magazine. I had to figure a way to convert them to a Microsoft Word document or jpg. Thank God for google. I found an online converter that was free and started with the first issue of my Serial Killer Coloring Book.

I spent last night converting the first issue and all of today cropping and resizing the files for uploading to be published. Today I jumped right into cropping the pics and saving them. I was having a great time.

The cleaning lady came over and didn’t annoy me like she usually does. I was more cordial that usual to her. The mailman was friendly. Even the lawn care guys didn’t bother me. I was on a roll.

My friend stopped by for our weekly twelve step reading and talking. That went well. We were both in god spirits. He left after an hour or so stay then I went back to work on the editing and cropping. It was going well until the internet kept going in and out and I was having problems with my power cord on my computer. Even though it’s a laptop I try and keep it plugged in even if I’m out on the porch. It kept going in and out. I started to get frustrated between the internet and the power cord. I didn’t want to take a break until I finished my project. I was debating on and off going to the Apple store but it’s Saturday and it’s in the mall. I hate malls especially on a Saturday and after working in one for so many years. I thought I got the cord to work and a half an hour later it went out again. Fuck it. I grabbed my laptop, my cords and the box I bought it in and off to the Apple store I went. To the dreaded mall I drove.

The store was crowded as usual but I got service right away. I had to speak to a specialist and he figured out I needed a new cord and replaced free of charge. He also cleaned the almost two years of filth of f of my keyboard and screen for me. I love the Apple store. I love my Macbook.

Luckily there is an entrance and exit right across from the store so I didn’t have to deal with too many people. I walked down the deserted hallway getting a cigarette ready to smoke and then I saw Nancy. Nancy is a cook at the Bistro. The restaurant that fired me. Actually she makes the salads. She was happy to see me and me her. She is a cute chubby Mexican girl in her mid twenties. I always liked her. Her English isn’t the best but she tries real hard and it improved a lot since I first met her.

I asked her if she was happy. She started to cry and tell me how much she hates her job. It gets too busy and she needs help keeping up with the orders. She said the manager yells at her a lot. I felt bad. I hugged her. She looked so lost and confused. I hate to see a woman cry. I almost wanted to cry. I tried to explain to her that I hated my job there too because I didn’t like it when It was busy. She had trouble understanding. I wanted to grab her and take her home with me and take care of her. If I could have I would have.

It was huge reminder of how lucky I am that I am not working there. Even though I have no job, it beats the job I had. Most people hate their jobs but not this much. It was crazy the amount of work and energy I put in when it was busy. I had countless panic and anxiety attacks while trying to keep up with the constant order taking, serving food and cleaning tables while the next party was waiting. Sometimes I’d have four or five parties sit at tables before I had a chance to even think about cleaning them. I thank Nancy for the reminder. I also will pray for her. She was so sad.

My life went on for the day. I went window-shopping at Best Buy for cameras and video cameras. I wasted a lot of the sales girl’s time because the one I wanted wasn’t compatible to a Mac. I left and went to Starbucks. I was still a little anxious and sad.

Once I got home I felt a lot better again. I was back to work on my projects. I kept in mind that my mood will pass and it did. It always does. Sometimes it just takes a little longer than others.

Hopefully, I’ll have a few books published within the next month and then I’ll probably keep moving along. Hmm. I already forgot about Nancy. No I didn’t. I hope she finds happiness too.


I am a Slug

June 20, 2010

A little something I wrote on April 11th 2009.

I am a slug. I move slowly and eat and shit and sleep and for a few hours a week I move slowly through a job I hate so I can afford to eat and shit and sleep. I’m stuck in this prison shell of a body that looks like a man. An over weight, hairy, balding, middle aged, hunch backed, foot dragging man. I wasn’t always like this. A slug. I was once a young man full of energy that did things. I moved and shook like the best of the movers and shakers. Now I can feel my skin loosen and my limbs get weaker as I slide freakishly slow through a day as if one day everything will fall off my body and the transformation will be complete.

I am a slug. I move slowly and eat and shit and sleep. Love, passion, romance, creativity are not for me. Not this slug. Hope is not for this slug. Dreams are not for this slug. This ole slug is already set in his ways. Eat and shit and sleep. Eat and shit and sleep.


No Guilt for Fate

June 6, 2010

Fate. God’s Will. What is meant to be is to be. Call it what you want but I believe things happen for a reason. I believe in this more and more every day. Everything that has happened in my life has lead me to who I am now. For better or for worse depending on the day and my spiritual condition or mood. It’s all about today for me, today.

I don’t have any regrets of my past and what I have done or haven’t done. It is what it is. I try to make the best of each moment and when I’m down I just ride it out and it goes away eventually.

My recent unfair job loss has freed my mind up a bit. For now. I’m in a position to move on creatively and try to improve the quality of life for myself. By losing my “job” I got to thinking about what I really want to do. I’ve known it for a long time now but I want to write. I want to write and make a living off of writing stories, novels and poetry. I might get sidetracked here and there but I know deep in my heart what I want to do. What I’m good at.

Recently (but before I lost my job), I wanted to recreate myself as an artist. I’ve been toning things done a little here and there. I created a new blog page online to help promote me as a writer. I was going ot only post the less offensive writings. I’ve been holding back on my online social networking pages as well because family and people I know casually are on there. You know what? I don’t care anymore. To quote the great Popeye “I am what I am”. I did what I did.

I was worried about future employers googling my name and finding out about the xxx movies I’ve made, the serial killer songs I’ve written, recorded and performed, the sexual or offensive stories I’ve written and the “sick” drawings I’ve done. At one point I was considering deleting everything I could off of the internet. That’s impossible. I did what I did. Some things I’m proud of and some things I’m not but it all contributed to making me who I am today. It’s all part of who I am. People will see it and choose if they like it or not from there.

Anyone that knows me well knows that I am perverted, dark, and weird. They also know that I am a decent person that doesn’t revolve my life around my darkness or perversions. There is another side to me.

It took another loss of a meaningless “job” to open my eyes to see who I am again. To quote Patti Smith “I am an American artist and I have no guilt”.

Today I will either create something perverted, dark, or light and funny. Whatever it is I am on a mission to constantly create no matter what anyone else thinks or says about it. Amen.


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