writing about writing ...

This will be brief. And there's not much brief about me. Wow, I'm using caps.

Anyway fuck this fuck that. I'll be back. Add some more articles. But I want to talk about writing. I was a star - a big famous writer - but local. Well no - the alternative press formed a rule for the purpose of eliminating me. I'm not crazy.

If you go to the AAN website, you'll see submission rules. They will not accept stories about the writer's life. Yet it's full of stories about the writer's life. They had big arguments over me. The alternative press is just an excuse to pay writers less. Oh and you get to feel smarter than those stupid daily papers that you get to make fun of yet quote constantly in your research. Whatever works!

Oh course I had problems with my editor. But even he called me "a writer's writer." All I know is that I type. Call it writing. Whatever.

But know this - despite my wretched past, despite the days I spent visting convicted killers in prison, despite the drugs I smuggled into maximum security institutions, despite the fact that I am chronically compelled to advocate for the devil, I am the happiest person I know.

I have a very professional job - senior level IT analyst.
I have a boyfriend I've lived with for two years.
We don't argue.
I wouldn't believe me, either. But it's true.

And you know ... I've taken my hits. I've gotten up from them, but only after having month-long pity parties that allowed me to have it out with God. I've seen so much senseless suffering. Suicides. Murder. The criminalization of America and the whore (in the commercial sense) that this country has become.

I'm well-educated and an avid reader of books and news, and I watch a bunch of movies. And pretty uch everything pisses me off - but I'm still happy!

Because, at the end of the day, it all just seems funny to me. And to me, to be able to laugh at something means it can never own you. Laughter, not love, is the opposite of fear. Even if fear makes you laugh. If you're laughing, you're staring it down. You're looking it right in the eye.

And that's how I live. And that's how I write.

I will be inclined to write as if someone is reading this. So sorry. But I actually had fans at one point. I mean thousands of them! I'm not using my real name on this blog so that I can continue to make a good living and have the financial freedom to write whatever the fuck i want, as i see fit.

I promised myself that i would never use the writing as a way to pay the bills, ever again. you publish, it means someone owns you. it's gross. truly.

and there i was - the city's favorite columnist. and it felt like everyone i knew hated me for it. it was a very difficult and sad time for me in many, many ways. and the editors would just have to assert power over me.

i did this 'rock bottom' story about a coke whore who lived with me. she's doing okay, by the way. i still talk to her. just saw her last week! but, given that she was being so honest to me, i told her that i'd let her read my article before i submitted it. and i'd change anything she wanted.

the editor he said he'd fire me if i ever did that again. and i said that's why people hate journalists. if i published anything that would have identified her, it would have made things even worse for her. i wouldn't do that.

so i just never told him again. but i realized i was not meant to be a journalists - they're glorified typists to me. yet - my writing was so popular. and yet not a single paper in town would let me write like i wanted. nope.

they wanted this "powerful" writing but took away all the poetry. all the power.

okay well. i'm unemployed! and i have to go to unemployment school! i've been selected for job retraining even though i'm in IT - but okay.

so yes. i will be writing mainly about what i learned at the office - which makes me want to put a gun to my head. and about what i've been through with men and how i finally found the right man.

listen - that's all it boils down to. it's all a luck of the draw. you're not too fat or this or that. you just need to meet the right man. then every wrong thing you did, is suddenly right.

my main philosophy is this: free will is an illusion. god knew better than to hand over the keys to the universe to us, you know?

i can prove it. people will hate me for this. they'll think it implies so much shit. but i've been doing research - looking everywhere for something that allows us to just stop being so fucked to each other.

and as long as we believe we have "choice" that has nothing to do with change, as long as we think it's all on us, we will keep holding other people accountable to our standards and ignore the fact that we don't even uphold them.

as long as we can blame each other, well. until the finger pointing stops, the hand holding can't begin. simple as that.

good night my little angel imaginary readers ...