Why I write

OK, time to regroup and rebuild. I’m going to put high school on hold. I have to. Right now I’m still very raw. Going back to an era where my friend was a key part just feels rough. I don’t want to dig into my past for the moment.

That said, this blog is about me and my mind. Of late that’s been in a very surreal place. I’ve been deep in research on a script on the topic of dead malls. It’ll be a horror comedy. I’m writing by and large to escape. To run from the bad feelings I’ve had by pouring my energy into something creative. That’s pretty common for me.

I wrote much more frequently growing up. That’s not true. I finished more frequently. My Scripped account is littered with page after page of incomplete work. I have countless short stories I’ve started and never finished. I even have a few bad first drafts.

As a kid it was easier of course. A few pages constituted a major work and I had less distractions. The Internet is a writer’s foe.  But I wrote and wrote away. At 13 I started screenwriting with the dream of being a screenwriter. That dream is filed away.

I once thought I could do so much with my skill then adulthood and reality set in. I’m not very talented. I don’t have the passion. My ideas aren’t commercial. I made the wrong choices on the way to being a professional. I’m not fated for that life. It breaks my heart I’m not but with growing up you accept your station in life and concede how much sense Death of a Salesman makes.

But, I still write.

I write because there is a small part of me that hasn’t given up. I haven’t quit believing I might yet write something good. I have ideas within me I want to get out and expressed. There are movies I want to see if only I could birth them. I have novels I want to read.

I have this blog where I express myself. On this site I pound the keys and I put into words the thoughts and feelings I’m denied verbally.  I want to be heard god damn it! So I write in the hopes that someone knows that I exist. That what I hear in my head makes some sense.

I write because at the very best, I’m lost in a world I create in my head. I want others to go there. I write because I might be cynical about finishing a story but I have hope that this one time, things will work. I’m not a delusional man, but I do still dream.

I’m working hard on this idea. Will you ever see it? Likely not. But I’ll take the shot anyway. I’ll draft my outline and do my research. On an evening soon, I’ll sign on to Scripped and casually type the words FADE IN:. I hope I type fade out.

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