Monday, January 28, 2013

A Moment of Honesty

This is me. I don't actually play the banjo. 
I want to take a moment to go off "topic" and discuss a few real topics as a human being. Picture me in a smoking jacket with a pair of bunny slippers, leaning forward on a sword cane, with a heavy glass of single malt scotch at my side. Got it? OK. So. I know honesty in the sense of vulnerability and openness is a strange concept for us these days, as our days segment into rush from task to task. Or for all those chronic illness and psych sufferers, hiding in a dark hole away from the world and hope to God it gets better.

Not that I'd know anything about any of that as a published author and artist.

No, but seriously. Sometimes it is very difficult to write for this blank page, with this invisible wall between author and audience. There is this sense that the internet has brought that wall down, but if anyone has paid attention to comment threads on most sites, it would seem that much of the world didn't get the memo, and it much more content to lob middle-school level insults at one another or remain silent, perhaps in some contexts clicking "like" on occasion. It isn't as if this is new, as authors of the printed word often have - and sometimes even want - a division between their world and the world of their audience.

But I really seek a discussion. I see traffic figures that don't at all mesh with interaction, which leads me to think that something is a little wonky. Granted, I need a certain distance to keep out the total crazies, and it's sometimes hard to know who you can trust until they kick you down a steep hill when you turn your back on them. Eventually you have to just start trusting some people though, and I'll do my best to keep doing that when people give me any cause at all to do so. (Which is I know publicly exposing myself to knife attack but that's why we pretend to know Kung Fu.)

So I have to remind myself that some of the people that have become closest to me were met through my writing - they read one or several of my books, perhaps followed this or other sites for years, and then finally stepped forward and said "hey, let's be friends." Sometimes it takes, sometimes it doesn't. I just have to remember that this is the reason that I write, as no illusions of stardom ever meet up to reality, even when they happen. I have a few really startling stories of people telling me what a difference I've made for them, but this isn't about my ego. I just wanted to give myself and my readers a reminder of at least what I'm doing here, and that reaching out to me is not only OK but actually desired. Like so many others I'm in my little world and have a thousand tiny invisible wars to fight (or not so tiny), and so I could use the reminders too.

That's why I'm here. What about you?

Think about that as I continue this weird little letter to the void. Some people tell me that I intimidate them. That's a really confusing message for me. I don't understand how I can be intimidating to anyone that weren't themselves threatening me. But projection is a strange thing, especially online. So I may appear authoritative on some issues, and I may like to discuss things in a way that may seem confrontational to those that aren't used to regularly analyzing what they say and do with a mixture of compassion and curiosity, but none of that means that I'm anything other than a weird half-ape half-we-don't-know-what freakish mutant. (That other half isn't an alien I don't think, it's the future. It's what we are going to become if we don't kill ourselves first.)

My point is that I hope I make some new real friends and that the future for human relationships isn't really just clicking "like" on people's Facebook profiles, and canned discussions, without openness and passion and fear, or else what's the fucking point?

\So anyways, yeah. I'm going to keep speaking my mind and doing my thing, you all should do the same. How does the saying go? "I love you all, don't intentionally hurt me or my family or I'll cut you with a machete."  I have more articles that are brewing for this site, and I'm working on the first draft of a new book as I work to push Words of Traitors - both the book and the art show - out to the reluctant audiences of the world. But I wanted to just have a moment of truth here before I go back to quietly pushing this boulder up the hill.

Also I'm working with more physical pain that I've had to in my entire life, though at the moment I'm at least fairly well medicated for it. This might hinder my output a wee bit so maybe you could take this lag in my own output and pick up a copy of Words of Traitors, if you have an interest in what I have to say and contribute -- and we can pick this up soon.



[Where is the fucking counterculture? Mythos Media.]


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