How, effectively, do you get out all the words out that you want people to hear? How can you be heard? Who the fuck will listen? How can I balance all of these heavy questions with, say, jokes about cereal and the consumption of nachos and an all in all happy, productive life?
As a writer, I think about this often. But also, as a human, I think about it more.
Everybody knows there is a lot of horrible going on in the world right now, and for the first time—a sign of growing older for sure—I have had a consistent heartache about it. I have had a headache from people’s opinions about it, too. How often we spend trying to say the right thing, the angry thing, the justified thing, or the thing that lets the world know how we truly feel. Sometimes, it is awful. Most of the time it is a desperate cry to be heard.
An old friend and former coworker of mine died a couple of days ago to cancer. He was a very positive person in a way I am not. I am not a very positive person. I got frustrated cleaning dishes today. Why? I couldn’t say. I can’t say much about the balance of the world anymore, only that I know it should exist and often doesn’t.
There is a giant storm cloud in my stomach, and I used to spend all too much time trying to figure out how to make the lightning come out of it. Writing the second book is challenging. Sometimes I think my life isn’t that important to write another book about. Actually, that’s correct. My life isn’t important in the grand scheme of things, except to perhaps contribute some common thread I drop on the ground. I hope you pick them up and go “Hey, me too.”
In the meantime, I listen to Fiona Apple, to Tori Amos, to Adele, and to Miss Nicki Minaj while I spend hours trying to figure it out.
I’m still around, guys. I am turning 26 on Saturday and I am grateful to do so with pizza and whiskey and friends. I am also doing that all-too-human thing of find restrained ways to wring out my storm cloud into something that resembles my footprints. Deadline in October. I am the little engine that will.
More writing to come here, as it is always my way.