So this is what I know... I know my dad bought me this computer so I would work on my writing. Like me, he could care less about graduate school, and cares much more about what makes me who I am and brings me peace. He knows the medium that helps me achieve that used to be art but over the years has changed to words. He knows that I don't much pay attention to punctuation or "proper" sentence structure and more to the words and how they sound and flow together - just part of who I am or who I am becoming I suppose. Tonight I had to help my son with dependent and independent clauses - and I thought really what is the point. I did briefly think that if I paid more attention in high school knowing that type of thing would probably make me a better, more consise writer - not sure how important that is in the world today.
Franz, of course just announced that instead of journaling tonight he should begin a blog and how gay being 13 is... really I swear those were his words.
So back to writing... there are many possibilities I suppose; from the serious to the more rediculous and everything in between... snippets of life or something longer of more substance... free writing, just being me and not worrying about the rules of the world or the opinions of others. I try hard not to worry about what others think and for the most part I'm successful at that.
What was interesting to me today was that I spoke with my room mate back when I was 20. She said she actually still had the book of poetry I wrote all those years ago. I couldn't believe it, that someone would keep something like that, even though I had given it to her for Christmas; I was certainly surprised that she still had it and at times even read from it. Maybe there is hope for my writing after all. My aunt and uncle had it too and just returned it to me this time of year last year - obviously read and thought about, but they figured with all my travels and moving around that I had surely lost my copy - how right they were. How interesting it is to go back and see where my thinking was all of those years ago. Then understanding how differently I think now. How much I tought I knew then compared to how much I'm willing to admit I don't know now. Interesting of course how the world changes and moves us about so we can learn and grow as we are meant to learn and grow.
So where does this leave me today? With a voice; a voice for those who cannot speak, those who choose not to speak and those who do speak but don't have a clue as to what they are saying. Perhaps it is time to start on that book "Please Just Don't Pee on My Pants"... a new adventure a new career path... a new way to keep the freedom and peace I have become so accustomed to... Thank you Denise, Uncle Ade, Tanta Anita, Terri,Dad and Greg - for bringing me back from the pit I was jumping into this morning when I woke up.
God Bless You All.