thefreddy

I figure I"ll repost from my tumblr page:

This might sound a bit emo. So advance apologies if it comes out like that.

In six months, Ill be 31 years old. Ill be a year into a new decade in my life and, so far, Ive accomplish very little. You know those childhood dreams you had of being a cop, president, an astronaut when you grow up? And when you look back, do you see these goal as outlandish fantasies or something that can still be grasped?

Well, from the time I was in 5th grade, I knew I wanted to be a writer. I had visions of me sitting down at the my antique desk, probably a rolltop, with a old-school typewriter planted right in the middle and type the keys. Punch away the next Great American Novel. Type the those keys like Sean Connery said in Finding Forrester. Your the Man Now Dawg!

Twenty one uneventful years later, Ive only made small bumps. I do freelance work for one website for their music section. Recently, the editor told that they were no longer paying the writers, so Im doing this for free. Why am I still on there? To keep my skills up. Plus its something to stop the boredom. Actually, I dont know why Im still on there. Maybe in the corners of my brain, theres this little nugget of a thought, a thought that thinks that this might lead to something bigger. Maybe some big shot editor might see my articles and go Jumping Jehosaphat! This young has spunk! He must join my team at once. Proctor, when youre done washing my balls, get all the information at this kid at once, chop chop!

So far, that hasnt happen yet.

Im beginning to think that maybe Im a moron for following something that Im capable of doing. I dont even write that much anymore, and when I do, its simplistic garbage that wouldnt pass in third grade English. Just a piece of loose-leaf paper filled with unintelligible bullshit. I know there are writers that go through the same thing, but I help but to think What the fuck am I doing this for? I should be going out, getting drunk and laid like most people my age. But Im not. Im sitting here, on my laptop, staring a blank screen, thinking so hard to write something. Goddamn life sucks sometimes.

I guess the point of this ramble is to express my feelings and air out all the dirty laundry sort to speak. I have my doubts about pursing writing, as I assume most people have doubts about pursing their dreams. Now,reading what I just written down, I do feel a calm soothing my body. Maybe that was what I needed to give me a bit of hope: a catharsis. Im ready for face the world, punch it in its goddamn face, kick it in the balls, and piss on it.

Cmon world. Show me what you got!