It's true, I have an unhealthy addiction at this point. It's all I can think about, all I can do. All I can breathe, or release from my fingertips. The click-click-click of the keyboard. Behind the screen, telling a story, or forming an opinion, that's one of the few places that I feel safe. I feel like I would still write even if people didn't read, but who knows at this point. I want to be able to look back on my life and know what I did with it. I want to know that I made an impact. Sometimes, or actually, more than sometimes, I feel like I'm beating a dead horse with what I say. This post marks post #50, and I feel like sometimes I'm saying the same thing over and over again. Although I know that what I'm writing is relatively new, I feel as if I've said it all before.
If someone were to come across this blog completely by chance, then they would think that a schizophrenic is writing this thing. Not four hours ago, I wrote a post in a completely different mood, manner, style, and length. I said that next time it would be a little longer, and I kept my word. The letters are flying out now, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. It sucks, trying to find the words to say, and then, the sun hasn't even risen yet, and I'm writing long diatribes again. Scary in a way, how my mind works. I don't even completely understand what's going on up there.
Please forgive me for droning on like this, I really have no control over it at this point. I hope you understand that this blog isn't just for the readers, it's for me as well. Like I said before, I want to be able to look back in 10 years and see what I was thinking. It's interesting to me, looking at scenarios and situations in retrospect. It's almost as if you're looking at it with completely new eyes. For example, there are times when I say things that, at the time seem like hilarious and inconsequential things to be uttering, but not five seconds later, I realize the mistake I've made. I've come to realize only one thing from moments like these. That feeling you get, the regret and guilt that comes with the words you've spoken, that's called maturing. It's realizing for the first time that what you just said was most definitely not the best choice of words. I know for a fact that I constantly do this, and it seems like every time I do, even though I feel horrible about saying it, I know that somehow I've learned from that experience.
I guess I can blame, or thank, this post on none other than my inspiration, Mark Zuckerberg. The man behind the genius that is Facebook. I literally just watched The Social Network again, and on my second viewing, I realized how eerily similar I am to Mark Zuckerberg. Once again I'm almost positive I've said this before, but dammit, I'm going to say it again. Many people will disagree with this statement of course, labeling me as nothing more than loud and obnoxious, and in some instances they're right. But in other cases, the resemblance to the thought process of Zuckerberg and my own is almost identical. I've always felt like if Zuckerberg never invented Facebook, I would've never started this blog, and I wouldn't be here right now writing this. I now know that that statement is nothing less than fact.
I look back on my life and see all the people, events, and places that have made me the adolescent that I am today. I'm nowhere near perfect, in fact, I'm closer to bad than good. With that being said, I owe where I am today, and who I am today, to those people, places, and events. I've had nothing short of an interesting childhood, and I swear to you, I wouldn't have it any other way. I sometimes see other children who bear no resemblance to me, and I think to myself, "What if my parents were more like that kid? Who would I be right now?" and I realize how insanely content I am with the way things went in life. I'm so blessed to have two parents who care about me, and want the best for me. As well as a family that's always supported me. My friendships throughout my life have never been as strong as I would've hoped they could be. Growing up, I always wished that I could have friends like the kids in Stand By Me, almost a brotherhood. I never had friendships like that, and looking back, I was probably better off. I spent a lot of my time, not alone, but not exactly surrounded either. I had a lot of time to think. If I had a quarter for every notebook I bought, trying to write something genius, I'd be a billionaire by now.
Writing always seemed to be something that I loved not only because I was good at it, but because it was the only way I could express my feelings the way that I wanted to. Being impaired with a paralyzing stutter, writing was my voice, and still is to this day. I've formed my writing style not only on the way I would like to speak, but on the way I think I should speak. If someone printed this out, put a gun to my head, and said read this, I'd be dead. In other words, all the "misfortune" that I was brought up with, all the manifestation of the complete misery that is childhood, it all brought me here, putting words on a page for you guys to read, and hopefully enjoy. If my stories bore you, if my jokes don't seem funny, and even if you hate to read, then this blog isn't for you. I might've touched base on this earlier, but I don't use pictures for a reason. I want you to form a visual through my words, not through someone else's art or photography.
I've made a lot of mistakes, and I've hurt a lot of people in the process, but at the same time, I know I'm helping someone too. In the words of Aaron Sorkin's screenplay I guess you could say, "You're not an asshole. You're just trying way too hard to be one." Depending on who you are, and who reads this, it's going to mean a lot of different things to a lot of different people. To those who have it set in their hearts to never give me a second chance, well, maybe I deserve it. To those who are in the mood to forgive, then you're in the right place, because you probably have something to forgive me for.
No comments:
Post a Comment