A quarter of a calendar year has passed since I acted on the advice of a good friend and took to the internet. I have to admit, I was very scared and equally excited at the same time. I knew I would be allowing complete and utter strangers up close and personal access to embarrassing and extremely personal events, thoughts, and feelings in my life. Scared because of the personal nature, excited because I would finally be doing what I was always up to that point too timid to actually do.
Several very close friends have really been enjoying the various poetry, spoken word and very short stories I’ve been posting, often offering very much needed words of encouragement even though I definitely don’t let on that it still in many ways is a bit frightening to continue doing so. As douchebaggy as it may sound, my feeling of accomplishment I get in continuing to produce art way overpowers those feelings of fear and uncertainty I have while doing so.
I had a very bad idea to ask a friend to interview me, to which they agreed. Pompous, arrogant, or just a bad idea? I chose all three as the answer, so instead later this month I’ll be interviewing my boy JC instead. After all, he is my dog!!! Seriously though, bad ideas and bad execution of good ideas will only help me to continue to grow.
Instead of the interview of me, I’ve decided to delve a bit further into my background instead. This is strictly for that one reader who I know reads these updates, yet will never admit it…so! Without further ado, here’s a bit more about me.
I’ve been writing since I was 13. The first thing I ever wrote was for an English class; we were to write as many similes into a short story as possible. Me, being the fun loving dick I am, yes even at the ripe old age of 13, went ahead and wrote a really fucked up story about waking up from a nightmare (or waking up to one) only to walk out onto the patio and watch a girl jump from a building, and the following scene until she was carted off in a body bag.
The whole story, which comprised of two pages, received a D+. The remarks at the top of the page read simply “Very well written description but lacking in similes.” She passed me that year, even though I continued getting D’s & C’s. I’ll never forget that story, and often reflect upon it as to why I chose to write that, the reasons, the story itself, and the syntax I chose to use. I don’t do that to stroke my own ego but to remember the reasons why I chose to begin writing; the reasons I continue to choose to express myself in the manner I still do, humorously explaining everyday situations in a very twisted way.
Almost every single thing I’ve written is about an everyday situation I find myself in, from the social anxiety in “Can you get hip to what I’m sayin?” to the simple feeling of love in “Winter” to the fear and determination of being who I want to be in “I’m sorry, did I break your concentration?” to the simple contrast of the adult you are in comparison to the kid you remembered yourself to be, in “I don’t wanna grow up” and yes even the ultra political “All this wonder”. I continue rely heavily on metaphors and symbolism in how I choose to write; to date, there is only one piece I’ve written here that is verbatim to actual events. The rest have been slightly modified for a better story, or arr completrly made up, or even my perception of a particular period of time in my life. I always have and can say with certainty, always will choose to express myself in this way.
Writing, to me, is more than an outlet. It allows me to help understand myself, to express my innermost thoughts and feelings in a humorous yet equally serious and incisive tone. To joke all about the things that my inner voice tells me to not joke about. To allow thinly veiled ideas and issues to escape my continuous grasping of things that I sometimes hold onto much too long; to convey abstract ideas and thoughts and conflictions I find mired within myself.
Some of the nearest and dearest pieces of writing I’ve posted here, on this website, for everyone to see. I’ve lifted the veil on my true self as opposed to rhyming (which I am absolutely horrid at) about socks, or boats, or fucking coffee. Yes, I’ve read poems about those three things on here. To each their own, just not my bag, baby.
So why be so frank? For several reasons: First off, for those of you who know me in person, I am that direct. Secondly, I felt ashamed about the arrogance of asking to be interviewed and instead felt this was a feasible way to get across what I wanted to accomplish from said interview.
Now you know.
Upcoming in the Boat. I may ask another very talented personal friend of mine to be an author here, though he writes very differently than I do. I haven’t decided whether or not I’ll even ask him or if he’ll even say yes. He may want to do his own thing, which I can greatly respect because I may want to keep this as just my thing. More contemplation will give me a definite direction in which I want to head.
Another upcoming item; I am taking my time writing a bit of a longer (than I’ve posted to date) short story about an anniversary that’s really starting to freak me out as it comes closer to it. I really want to do this one justice.
That’s all for now. Please, comment or share any of my poetry or stories if you feel the need to. All of my ideas are open for you to feed off of, after all that is the point of art. I can think of no greater compliment than I inspired you or moved you enough to action. Remember that at least one person in the world loves and cares about you, though we may have never met. Peace and well being to all of you.