So today is Moon Day. This is my first official, it resembles work blog since my reincorporation into life down the hill. I love camping. I really do. I am looking forward to camping some more in about two weeks. In the interim though I will enjoy my indoor showers, fly free toilet, and big ass bed.
As I have returned to society with a freshly shaven face and resumed my role as a cog in the machine, I look to the future. Next weekend in the Army sponsored family event in some posh palace in Aspen. Mandatory fun, yea! However right after that I register for Denver Metro, and the path of learning this grammar stuff begins. So one week before I go back to college and gets all smarts and stuffs. I am gonna be a dirty old man on campus I would assume.
I will be focused. I will build my pack and we shall roam the halls. We will stake out our isles in the library. We will rule our spaces in the food courts. Others will cringe as they should, because that is nature. Yes oh yes I brought that with me down from the mountains. (insert evil grin here)
So the point of this exercise, my blog, is to build experience. To develop my skills as a writer. To teach me the discipline that is required to push out a novel even if I suffer from creative constipation. Right now I am read and reread each blog before I slam it into your cyber inbox. I do this to check what few grammar issues I can see, with my poor engrish skills. I also look for things that matter to me, like flow and content.
With each one I am offered many more suggestions as to how to make my blog more popular. Some of them are to link other blogs, websites, or places that might generate more traffic. The other is to add pictures. I have even been told that the format could help the flow, and by switching the fonts, colors, orientation throughout breaks it up and makes the experience more enjoyable.
That is awesome stuff really, but I say fuck it. I am not trying to be the great masked blogger. I want to be a writer, as in a writer of events. I wish to transcribe stories. I want to weave tales of woe, violence and dissidence that I can share with the world. I want somebody to load my work up on their nook or other device and read all that I wrote. Good, bad, or whatever, I just want people to read my work and think.
That being said, I can not think of one book that I read recently that had a hyper link, loads of pictures strewn through the text, or a hodge podge of fonts through out the book. So I am going to stay true to my style, and not ruin it with commercial flash. I will write my way, and save my pimping for outside the work.
I am now another twit on twitter, tweeting my twat out. I am on stumble upon. I link on facebook and ask others to do so as well. I pimp myself like the dirty whore I am. However I will try to keep the content of my work safe. I am like that dirty old whore that only does it to buy baby formula and hides it from their kids. I want my kids to have a better life and I drudge through the commercialism to do so. I am gonna dance on that pole until my baby gets through Harvard, or the heroin kills me.
So this blog has taken on a life of its own. It has become this pure episodic journey from my heart. It is not like my works of fiction being it is truth pure and simple. No fantasy here. It is not like my non fiction, because there is no driving purpose to help others improve themselves. This is just my mind vomit, you can look at it, pick out the chunky parts, or just spray them off the walk. It is mine. I offer no excuses. I share it with you though so that maybe people can understand me one day, and through that reach to be understood themselves. Other then that, its not that deep.
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