Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Stranger in a Strange Place

Yeah, I can be a little weird at times. Fuck it. Go crazy!
 
 
Admittedly, I can be a little strange, a little bizarre, a little too intense, a little too wrapped up in my work. It is not a bad thing I suppose.
 
Not a bad thing, but sometimes I feel like I am all alone out there, in my crazy little writing world.
 
I spend my early morning hours with a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of coffee before me, with the computer on and current manuscript pulled up on the screen, writing some, thinking more, trying to keep myself away from loading up MINECRAFT and playing for a bit...because I am subconsciously, or perhaps, very consciously, trying to avoid writing the words that I know are in me and wanting to come out, perhaps a little afraid of putting down that next written line, if it is good enough, if I am even pursuing something that is legit and worth reading let alone worth writing.
 
I think sometimes, when friends and family ask WHAT ARE YOU WRITING, and I tell them, I get the approving nod but also can see a glimmer of WHAT THE HELL? I don't expect anyone to GET IT, be you a reader of specific, Fantasy, whathaveyou. I know we all do not share the same interests (Thank God) and THAT can be what makes things work with this whole machine called living and life.
 
Whoever said WRITING CAN BE A LONELY PLACE wasn't kidding.
 
But, you know what, on the positive side, I am doing something I have ALWAYS ALWAYS enjoyed doing. It has always been therapeutic for a kid and guy trying to figure out the world on the outside, having a place to go on the inside and a means (talent?) to put it back on the outside (writing) and, wow! even being published and read. A dream come true? Hell yes. Being able to write and be read, hell yeah, a dream come true.
 
Not sure why the deep thoughts, maybe due to remembering my dad (Donald Welmerink 1933-2004), the passing of comedic artist Robin Williams, a full moon, some exciting good things in my life making me anxious, some stressful bullshit stuff making me anxious, the anniversary of a major anxiety attack which was NO FUCKING FUN at the time...I don't why the deep thoughts.
 
I'm going to turn this thing around now.
 
Life is good. It is big and good.
 
I got family, friends, a job, a writing gig. Got opportunities if I want to be a little crazy and pursue them.
 
And like the music artist SEAL sings: How we ever gonna survive unless we get a little crazy?

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