Thursday, September 4, 2008

Let's begin it on This

Below is something I wrote within the last year. When I write my book I want to make it the introduction because I feel it gives the reader a little bit of information about who I am and how I write. So I hope you enjoy it. Please leaves comments and let me know what you think.

I can't write in my room. I don't know why but I just can't. There are too many distractions. Between AIM, the people that live in my hallway, my iTunes, and all the shit I have covering my walls. (Not that I think it's shit, but its what most people categorize it as. Posters, random things I've collected over the years, tickets from plays, concerts, and the movies, cards, photos of friends both old and new, I could go on and on.) Writing in my room is down right impossible. So, I moved.

Now I'm sitting in Group 1, a large building on campus made of nothing but concrete and hair. I sit in a gody semi-modern ugly chair. The shades of purple and orange in the shapes of circles within squares are distracting and at the same time completely easy two tune out of my vision. That’s what I attempt to do while writing, tune out the world around me. This is very difficult to do because it is so hard to find a place that has just the right level of noise and at the same time has few other distractions in the immediate area.

The best places to write I find are locations that don't allow me to touch anything, someplace where I'm not 100% comfortable to do whatever I want. A place that if I get and pace around the room I look like a crazy person. If I'm in my room I'll get up and pace and dance. If I'm in my room I'm usually sitting around in my underwear. I'm not a big fan of clothes. They're constricting, but once I take them off I'm too comfortable which causes me not to want to write or not concentrate on writing.

I also need a place where I don't have things to play with. My desk in my own space has too many toys on it. I swear I'm like the biggest little kid you'll ever meet. I've got Slinky's, Silly Putty, a hamster that dances to “I'm too Sexy,” tons of photos that I've flipped through so many times its difficult to see through the finger prints on them, and a billion other work delaying junk.

Out of all the clutter on my desk the bottle caps are what distracted me the most. They're everywhere. Between the beer I illegally drink to get the creative process started and my spontaneous collecting of them I would guess that I have around 300 of them. To pass the procrastinating time I usually build things with them. Little bottle cap houses frequent my desk and usually exist until the door slams hard enough to shake the surrounding area. I also make necklaces and earrings out of the bottle caps, so when trying to writing I usually have my little pick in hand to puncture small holes in the tops to I can string fishing line and hooks into them. I made these really bad ass red music note earrings that I finished the other day. The other day I had a beer from the bench warmer's brewery and the cap was a baseball. I'm working on making that into a necklace.

Anyway, as I sit here slouched down in my chair, my feet propped up on another hideous looking monstrosity of furniture. My eyes begin to wander off of my computer screen and people watching becomes my current distraction. Although there aren't many people in the hallway the ones that are seem so interesting. The first to walk by is a relatively tall guy wearing a navy blue t-shirt. His right arm was covered with a tattoo that I couldn't make out from the distance between us. He had white headphones in. I assume he was listening to an iPod. He walked in a hurried manner with a long stride. As he passed me I thought, “I wonder if he's good in bed?” Today was definitely one of those days when you're so horny that you look at people passing by that you find attractive and the first thought in your mind is if they'd be a good sex partner. If you're thinking that I'm the only person who feels this way you're wrong. I know a bunch of people that admit to doing the same thing. I mean it's not like I act on any of these horny questions, they're just thoughts. Besides I'm sure people think things way worse than this.

I've been sitting here for about two hours now zoning in and out of my word filled wonderland, and just like Alice I'm lost and have no idea where I'm going. When I sit down to write something whether it be a paper for a class or something I come up with myself I just wing it. I mean obviously there is some sort of thought behind it, but there's really no process to it. I don't really tons have ideas and plans when I first state, I just go. I'm sure most of my English professors would scold me for not having a plan going into it, but whatever, they can suck it. It’s my writing not theirs and when I get a bad ass book deal then they'll realize that although it may not seem like it, there is a method to my madness.

In fact, my madness is what makes me the type of writer that I am. With my brain constantly darting from one topic to the next it gives me witty side thoughts to add to my writing and by putting these on that page it gets my reader into my head. Maybe even a little further in my head than some people would like to travel. But I feel that everyone should go places that they find uncomfortable because by going outside of your comfort zone it helps you to grow as a person. There’s one person in my life that I try to help do this all of the time.

Her name is Lila. Lila works with me as an RA (Resident Assistant) in the building that I am the ARD (Assistant Resident Director) for. This year is her first year as an RA and when I first met her she was ridiculously quiet. She’s still pretty quiet if you don’t know her, but not around me anymore. I always push her out of her comfort zone, and while sometimes I know she hates me for it, most times she learns from the experiences she has because of it. Don’t worry you’ll hear more about Lila in some of my later readings…hopefully.


Writing! Must write something worth reading…but what does that really mean? How do you categorize what is and is not worth reading and who gets to make that call? Why wouldn’t someone want to just read about my thoughts? In the past I have found myself constantly worrying about what other people will think about my writing. Recently, I have come to the conclusion that I’m going to write about whatever that fuck I want and if people don’t like it, well; it doesn’t really matter does it. It would be fantastic if people did, but at the end of the day I’ll be okay if I’m not on the New York Times best seller list.

One day all the meaningless nothings that I write done will become something incredible. All of the slips of paper that I have written on, everything I've ever scribble in a notebook during class, and all of the random napkins and other scraps that I have scribed on will be used. All of it will become part of something amazing that I will have created, and this will be the start of it. This random writing that doesn't mean too much, but is merely a glimpse into my continuously roaming mind while I write, will be the first thing people read when they pick up my first book. They’ll pick it up and get a fantastic look deep into my strange and interesting thoughts.

So on that note, I hope you enjoy what I have written. This book has taken years and to get to this point I have been to hell and back. Okay maybe not hell, but definitely to limbo and back. These are my thoughts on life. I’m not saying they’re right or wrong, just that this is what I think and what I have learned from my experiences in the past 21 years.

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