I Write Because it Releases Me, and Maybe You Too...

If you are anything like me - outspoken, fairly moody, mean sometimes, smart, proverbially corny, politically incorrect, foul mouthed, fascinated by taboo, stubborn, yet loving and still kind and unbelievably loyal  - you find yourself surrounded by people who don't always get you.  They don't always understand.  You can express yourself all day long, but you don't get an honest impression, reaction, or any kind of legitimate feedback from them because instead of accepting you as presented, they're too busy trying to figure you out.

Stop trying to figure me out.  Your role is one of three:  Love me, hate me or otherwise leave me be.  Choose one and let's be on about our business.

My business, currently, is getting my shit together so I can realize the goal I've always entertained of writing a book.  Why?  As has always been, most often, I prefer the company of books over people.  Why?

I don't have to explain myself to a book, it doesn't judge me or mis-characterize me because it doesn't understand me.  I don't have to answer as to why I think a certain way, choose to look a certain way, date the men I date or dump the ones I dump.  Books open themselves up to a mind willing to absorb and feel, and hope and wish, they accept me both beautiful and flawed and in return, I give them all the love I have.

Within a book, those words that I read lead me to thoughts that I think, questions that I ask and wonders that I ponder - those words that I love fill me up and in turn - must be given back to the world again.  That's my circle of life...  You ain't gotta be in my circle if you're not sure you want to be, however, I think that in any book I write, if you're honest, you might just find a little bit of you too. 

I write because I love putting the words together that tell my story.  I write because I learn a lot about me when I do.  I write because my story is not just mine all the time, sometimes they're other people's stories too.  Sometimes it's yours and maybe you just can't tell it, but I can and if you allow me to live it with you, we can tell together.  You don't have to love me or my story, but my words are real, and true, and mine and I hope that you at least respect my want to share them with you.  Maybe that's really what's behind my desire to be published someday, validation that there are people who appreciate that I choose to share my story.  And I choose not to self-publish, because anyone can do it, and again - maybe I seek validation that my story was worth the pains and the joys of living it long enough to retell.  This, writing, is my gift - one I want to share.

While I write of my journey and you read, again, I ask you to choose one of the three:  Love me, hate me or leave me be.  I know how to deal with all three of those, but I'm not sure I can figure me out and try to figure out what you want from me too.  Ya'll motherfuckers should know by now I can't multi-task.

Someone posed the questions: "Who do you think you are and what makes you think you could write a book anyone would want to read?", and this blog is my response.  So, yes, I prefer books over people, but people aren't always so bad.  One of the values of the anonymity of the internet is that people ask you questions they wouldn't normally ask you to your face, but if in turn you get to look inside yourself just a little bit deeper as a result, there's nothing wrong with that.  I welcome it.   

Thank you.