Rebirth

I was flippin' through all this stuff I've written on this blog and came to the realization that I've been at this for a year now. A year and about a month actually. I hadn't even noticed, I been so busy.

Damn where does the time go? Another year down the drain and not much has changed. Still broke, still chubby, still unpublished, still in Texas.

I think I may have lost my way here and there. Lookin' back I see where I gave you some crap. But I think I gave you some good ones too. I was pressed for time on some and others flowed out like water in minutes. I can't give you gold every time. But I'll do my best.

I dunno how many of you have tried to write a two page paper and work 60 hours a week and keep a girlfriend but it gets a lil challengin' here and there and so one or the other tends to suffer. But a writer's gotta live his life or else he's got nuthin' worth sayin' anyway.

A writer's gotta walk outside and see the world. He's gotta question everything and take notice of every joy and pain in the world. He's gotta be sensitive in a world that crushes sensitivity. A writer is a lot more than a person with a pen and paper, he's someone that takes the whole of our existence, makes sense of it, and redelivers it to us in a profound way. The more that author knows about anything and everything, the more he's seen and heard, the better his story is gonna be.

One of the most important tools in an author's arsenal is his sensitivity. For any artist really. You gotta suffer when others suffer. You gotta smile when others smile. Artist hearts beat with the world. That sensitivity allows you to be reborn as every single person that ever lived or ever will live. But it also weighs heavy on your soul.

To paraphrase Emily Dickinson (I'm pretty sure it was her anyway), a writers greatest gift is his his sensitivity to the world around him but it is also his curse since it can drive him crazy to be that aware of all the wrong and all that love. Hell it even drives regular folks nuts. How could you blame Elliot Smith or Vincent Van Gough or Virginia Woolf or Frida Kahlo or Ernest Hemingway or anybody else?

But I ain't there yet. I got no intentions of goin' just yet. But to say I've never had those thoughts would be a lie. I think everybody has 'em. And I've been through a hell of my own design. I had my reasons to think like that. But right now I'm feelin' good and I gotta handle on things. I'm lookin' forward to the magic I can make outta my words.

I got plans for this blog and the facebook fan page and my writin' in general. I won't commit to anything just yet since I'm still workin' on all this but I'm tryin' to get it all together for you lovely lil readers as soon as I can.

I need to get back into the groove of tryin' to change what I see is wrong with the world. I look around and pay attention to what I see, I listen to the stories people tell me, and a lot of what I see disgusts me. I'm pretty far left, which I'm sure you know by now. I believe in peace and tolerance. I believe in workin' hard and bein' fair. I try to be good to my family. I try to treat people with respect, women in particular. I don't want everyone to be just like me but I do want people to be good and decent to each other.

I realize good is a relative term, so to clarify: I want people to get along as best as we can without robbin', killin', rapin', or otherwise screwin' each other over. There's no makin' everybody happy but I know the world can be better than this. I know I can be better than I am and I'd like to help anyone I can be the best them they can be.

I don't have the keys to everything. I don't have the answers. I only have what I feel, my experience, and my stories. I hope you enjoy readin' them. I hope you get sumthin' outta them.

I thank y'all for stickin' with me thus far. I hope you stick around for another year. I hope you tell your friends about me. Maybe we can change a few things and make our world a lil bit better. Maybe we won't. But who knows? Maybe I'm just self-centered and egotistical. I am human afterall.