Holy shit has it been a long time. I have been battling myself back and forth what to do with this site, and what to do with my writing career. I would love to tell everyone on here that I have written scores of published children’s stories and all my dreams have come true. I would love to say this, but sadly I cannot. My writing just sorta….well….stalled. I was making really good progress on my children’s books but one day I just stopped writing. I don’t know why exactly I just stopped. I just remember getting settled in to start making magic when I realized there were 1000 more things I would rather be doing. I think I got so sucked into the children’s books and as a result I drifted far away from what my true identity as a writer really is. I have been going back forth with myself wondering if I should start writing again. I found my answer twenty minutes ago when I logged onto my wordpress account.
It had been sometime since I was last logged in and there had been many changes and to be honest with you I felt a bit out of place. I did notice that I had many unread comments which came as a much needed surprise. As I read through these comments I thought to myself how stupid it was of me to stop ever writing in the first place. I decided to push aside any useless task I was going to try and accomplish today, and just write.
Right now my life is surrounded with such dark clouds of uncertainty. The things I always thought were going to be in reality really are not. I am having a very difficult time coping with life and I have been discovering that my daily living activities are getting harder and harder to complete. I am all bound up in this tightly wound ball, and if I do not do something about this I may end up snapping and going nomadic. I don’t mean like bad ass ninja nomadic with their all black suits and many large sharp objects. I am talking about the scary nomad; the kind that wears white shirts and tacky ties wondering suburbia with a bible and a backpack. That thought for a brief moment made me feel a bit better.
It’s the old cliché that days feel like months, hours seem like days, and every second hurts more than the last. One of my greatest coping mechanisms has always been writing and right now I need her more than anything. So like I said I logged onto the old WordPress and decided to just go wherever my fingers may take me…. Which apparently is here?
So where exactly is here, and how is here going to affect my life? I do know for the brief moment I decided to take and write this post has helped me get through this last hour, and let me tell you this last hour was truly killer. But here I am. I am still breathing. No bible. No ninja suit. I am here. Now where I am tomorrow may be completely different. I can walk away from these certain that I will jump back on the horse and start writing about this sick twisted world seen through my eyes. I can tell you with 100% certainty that I will be starting a new blog from scratch where I can write with the safety of a pen name. I did learn from my dealings with the Nazi onSesame Streetthat writing your true feelings can come at the cost of family, but in reality that is how I have always rolled and I really don’t plan on changing now.