Why I Write

It's not a selfless act, I can tell you that. There is always something to get out of it. But it's nothing poetic, it's not something elegant. It's raw. That's why I write. To express my emotions with no filter. I don't believe in filters, it's what leads to evictions. Honestly, I had an encounter with a man in my apartment building the other nig. It was nothing major, just a few words that hung up in the air full of tension for a brief moment, and then it was gone. But I get a call from my landlord this week, and she says 'he didn't feel comfortable, you know, addressing you directly...' and I said, 'that's bullshit,' and you wanna the saddest part? The landlord agreed with the other guy, said she was always too scared because people are confrontational. What a goddamn joke. Sorry for the rant there, but it's all connected. It's all a part of our superficial little customized worlds that we contain ourselves within these days.

Let me get back to the point though,

I write to share. I write because I think there are other people out there in this big ol' cold world who feel the same way I do, at least to one degree or another. I write to think. To help others think, to look at a situation differently. They say a man who doesn't read lives only one life, and a man who reads lives thousands. It's a great saying, and true as people are fickle.

I write because it helps me cope. There's a sort of therapy to it, coming home from a shitty day, cracking a beer, lighting up a smoke (which I'm going to do right now), ahhh, let that nicotine fill up my lungs, self-poisen tastes best, and I'm a goddamn chemical warfare general when it comes to tossign toxins into my body. Writing can be the best toxin, a release, an escape. I don't do it for grammer, and I certainly don't do it for fucking structure (oh and political corectness, I can care less), because it's like the late George Carlin said, it's the context behind the words that make them good or bad. If you're looking for proper syntax and nice, neat little paragraphs, well take a fucking hike. In this generation of lols and brbs, I don't think people give two shits about form anyways. It's about getting your message across.

So, for all you poor bastards who haven't been enlightened, that is, shown the real literature of pain, of suffering, of raw emotion, I have a list of books for you to check out;

1. The Ginger Man - J.P. Donleavy
2. Less Than Zero - Bret Easton Ellis
3. Portnoy's Complaint - Philip Roth
4. Bright Lights, Big City - Jay McInerney
5. The Stand - Stephen King
6. Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
7. American Pyscho - Bret Easton Ellis
8. Something Happened - Joseph Heller
9. Fight Club - Chuck Palahniuk
10. Run Charlie Run - John Dodsworth (Okay, yea, that's me).

Hope you enjoy, and don't be afraid to write outside the lines.