So it's all about human nature and our purpose. Perhaps that's what I was implying in my last post. Nothing so much as a howdy doo from the great beyond. Yeah, this one we'll have to figure out on our own.
What's this got to do with the main function of this vessel of communication? Yeah, this blogging bullshit I started with the idea in mind that it would chronicle my journey as a writer. At this moment in time, I'm finding that journey is a lot longer and more treacherous than I had originally imagined. Cats scratching, dogs barking, bears grizzling, and several humans on the inside of the bubble laughing at the silly fools on the outside who are trying to penetrate their private club. Why, dear god, didn't I decide to become an electrician, or an HVAC specialist? Those guys are set. They don't have the angst us creative types live with every millisecond of every day wondering when the superiority of their intellect and their genius will finally pay off, and they get a pretty good paycheck to boot. It's enough to drive someone even more insane than they already are. Accurate to the point that insanity is certainly a prerequisite for an artist of any type - at least one that considers that what they do, they do because they have no choice. How many times have I told myself that my work is something valid and worthwhile whether or not its got any sort of mass appeal? I'll tell you: a whole bunch. Has it progressed my work any? Am I respected? Do I have a sense of purpose? You know what? Yeah, fuck it! Nobody likes me, nobody cares that I suffer for this shit, and probably will until I kick this flesh and bone shell to the curb and move on. Hopefully in the next life I'll come back as a plumber.