My writing really does come in waves; as cliched as it sounds. At the beginning of 2011 i couldn't stop myself from writing, there were times i had to fight my urge to get up from bed and start pounding away on the typewriter. But now, i have to fight each and every paragraph to help my sad little stories chug along in some sorta of pathetic progression.

I think any form of art is a work. But as a writer i feel little pride in things i really had to fight for to make sense to someone else. In painting i think any sort of abstractedness can be named art if given the right name. In writing if your words are not precise, in spelling or grammar or other sorts of error you can easily be named a failure.

Jackson Pollack had no qualms about making painting as easy as it can get. But there is no substitute for awfulness when it comes to writing. There is no Jackson Pollack when it comes to words.

Faith's Diversion

Luck. Never had it.

I'm not talking about big luck, like prize winning or the finishing the perfect game in whatever sport. I'm talking about the little things that just add up: such as walking down the street to get a ride from a friend but get caught in the rain on the way there. Or the one time i can't park in the drive way so i had park it in front of a house, turned out that the resident of said house was a police officer who noticed my tags were out so he had it towed. The beginning stages of dating a girl who is not only intelligent, witty and all the other cliche things men say when they don't know enough words to describe a girl who's indescribable; only to have the relationship fail when the beginning of vacations and neither have a way to see the other.

That last example is some where in the range of ten years ago, but hey, things that sting the heart still sting. Less so, but it nags near morning after a night of terrible drinking.

But as luck would have it, one of the rarest of gems finally showed itself to me.

Encouragement.

An unprovoked, unforeseen and unlikely friend spoke up (out of turn, i might add) about my current style of living: "So you have no girlfriend, little money, no car, but live in a big ass house with three of your greatest friends and you don't do shit with your time?! Plus, no kids and you don't travel? Look, idiot, but look around you. This should be better, you should be better. There is a greater life than this." To which he added a black licorice liquor burp into my face. "Now have a beer. Live it up."

One day i'm going to disappoint that man very much. But for now, i'll do my best to keep his poisoned tongue out of my ear by making him eat those words: "you don't do shit with your time."

And Sarah....... That girl. It will forever be a mystery as to why she worries about me so damn much. I received a stern worded text from her that once i head to Japan that i must let her know when i'm leaving, to maintain some sort of communication open at all times and that she has a right to visit me when she can. I informed her that my leaving wouldn't happen for another year or 2. When i asked her why was she panicking at something that might not happen at all; she responded: "When stressed or dealing with a problem you don't know how to handle you become extremely introverted. And moving for you is one of those situations."

"Says who?" I with a doubt-filled raised eyebrow.

"Irene."

Ah yes, Irene. Another unfortunate women to be branded with being both my best friend and ex-girlfriend, and who apparently to the few women in my life is appointed "the be all, end all, to all things Me." In other words if one of the girls are perplexed by something i said or did, they go to her to find out why. She's the one person besides myself that seems to know more about me than i do.

So when i introduced Sarah's sightings to Irene and asked if it was true: "Are you fuckin' kidding me? You're damn right it's true. That's 101. Anyone that tries to befriend you or is beginning to love you that is one of the first things they learn. Besides you're very stoic and quiet to people you don't know, but as soon as you find common ground you open up, that you're a comedy snob. And the things you hate will continue to be hated until they can be presented in an interesting way to you."

So as luck would have it, i'm better known than i thought. Somehow i don't like it. But it makes me smile all the same.

Born into this.

As a sad sack of shit, i can't help but notice the listlessness my life has taken with little indication that i would enjoy such a direction. It seemed one day as i was playing around and truly enjoying things, and it took someone with the correct word usage to have me turn around and put a retrospective eye to my recent activities that i noticed the childish mucking about that i was doing.

Damn women.

Why is it every time i think i'm having fun; it's a girl that taps me on the shoulder that warns me on my own behavior that makes me reflect on my actions? No one else seems to mind, all the people i was with before encourage such things. If it were any girl, other than the few i respect enough to pay attention to, to be the one to point out my faults i would've ignored them out right and continued on my way, as merrily as ever. But no it had to be the one damn women in my life (besides my mother) that has to point out the uselessness of my current life style.

Although i wish to blame her for causing me such problems, i know for a fact that i can't. What exactly have i been going these last 6 years besides work? I mean sure my job now can offer no such plan to help me carry on high through the ranks, nor can it help me finally obtain medical coverage, but i'm helping people with mental handicaps; as hard as it is something i like the guys with schizophrenia at my work. Is this where i imaged i would be some seven years ago as a fledgling 21 year old?

No.

But it is here within these sad little pages that i plan to chronically document my pointless little existence  far away from facebook where my humor shines brighter than it ever will, from my parents and my friends. It is here as i plan my new job far before it will begin. Far before i have spoken to my father about it, and even farther than i have speaking to my friends/roommates about my current goal. My goal of finally obtaining my English degree and teaching it to kids in Japan.

I feel like Sam Beckett waking up in someone else life and noticing how crappy it is, and now i have to fix it.

Oh Boy.