Thursday, February 28, 2013

Writer's Quarrel

I feel like the "simple life" is greatly underrated. I can't help but wonder how much more I would get done in a day if I didn't waste my time focusing on the wrong things. There are too many distractions, even in this quiet town. It's frustrating for a writer. I can easily get side tracked if there is a television on in the room (even muted), my phone starts ringing, or if I have the sudden urge to tweet some meaningless piece of dialogue that I overheard in the grocery store today. I should be contributing to a real piece of work and hone in on my craft.

And there I go, searching for an alternate word in the online thesaurus because I don't want to use the same word again. However, I accidentally click on the tab for Twitter. By doing so I illuminate the true redundancy in my life which encompasses the technology that we as humans are ever so magnetized to. This technology is wrongfully associated with our leisure time and the "simple life." As we know the "simple life" isn't all that simple. But, technology definitely makes it easier. Easy living. Simple life. They sound pretty similar. However, we know damn well how easily technology can complicate our lives. I mean, shit, we survive on our Keurig coffee machines and GPS units. If you remove these things, we may never find our way to work. It's a sad cup of coffee; half empty. But, hey, it holds some truth.

feel like I need to lock myself in an empty room with pencils and paper and just write. No. That makes me sound annoyingly proud and pretentious. So, scratch that. I'll lock myself in a room with a laptop. However, this laptop will only have writing software and that is it. But, you know what? It's hard to find laptops like that these days. They always want to fill it with junk and other things that take up space until you have 73 icons on your desktop. 

Back to basics. That's all I'm trying to say. Let me find inspiration in the wind, starry nights, and my weird neighbors again. And may I shy away from the temptations (not the Motown group, which I love) of day time television, the entangling web of sites on the...interweb, and all of the other distractions found in our lives.

Now quick, let me post this on my blog and tweet it to my 46 followers. Oh wow, what's this? A magazine which showcases the Bachelor, which I have zero interest in. However, there's a slew of attractive women hanging around him. What do you know? Sex does sell.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Third of a Life Crisis

     Things that are overrated: “stable” jobs, good benefits (a.k.a. bennies), and pension plans. It’s interesting. A stable job, which you hate, seems to make you quite the opposite: something like umm, unstable. This is due to the monotony that dictates your existence. Your passion lies dormant. By the end of the day your brain rests, smoking on a long Virginia Slim, as you sit and stare at a wall. The only thing you manage to mutter is, “Hmm. That sure is a wall.” Your passion, like an old friend says, “Hey man. Remember me? So…what’s new?”
     Benefits are actually really important. So, I can’t say with 100% conviction that benefits are overrated. This is one of the anchors of any job. Benefits alone can be the deciding factor when it comes to debating your next move. One thing is for sure though--the moment you decide to take a chance on your passion and forget about your great benefits is when life will say, “Hey, look out for…Too late. That sure looked painful. I hope you have good insurance.”
     A pension plan seems like a great, practical…thing. But, really, the only thing you’re planning on is living to see your pension. You might have been great at dodge ball in elementary school and maybe you still have moves like Jagger. However, sometimes you just can’t dodge cancer, heart disease, and that demon Mack truck heading your way. So, chances are this American "ideal" probably won't work for you. Sorry to sound so bitter. But, life is like that bitch in The Rolling Stones song, "She's So Cold"'s so cold.
     In conclusion, I probably shouldn't complain. But, what the hell, everybody else does. There's a time and a place to grow some balls. Usually that's in your mother's womb. In my case, it's right now...probably not though. I'm my worst enemy, my worst critic, and my worst nightmare--not exactly in that order. I guess I'll keep on keep keepin' on, doing what I'ma gonna do. Now I'm just rambling. 
     I'm going to write a second conclusion like a hobbit would eat a second breakfast. In conclusion, I'm just going to grab life by the...not balls because that's weird...not boobs because that's perverted. So, there will be no grabbing whatsoever.  Instead I will...eventually take a chance...and maybe get life into a headlock.