I try to write everyday. I don't always use it but I usually like it.

There will be times you do something great in this world, son.  You will look at your work and think, “wow, only I could have made this.  The only person in the whole world”.  And you will show people your work and then they will look at it for a moment and say, “it’s good”.  Pizza is good, an extra hour of sleep is good, getting a close parking space is good.  What you made was incredible, one of a kind.  But they will call it good and walk away or look back at what they are doing.  What are you to do?  Nothing, kid.  You keeping working.  This world eats geniuses and free thinkers and originality and then spits it out and goes on with its day.  Pay it no mind.

Let The Show Go On

            The “thing” you could find this last week at the Jessica-Antonio household was the TV blaring episode-after-episode of “That 70’s Show” while we tinkered around the place (Unless a Brewers game was on).  I grew up watching that show, and even though I may know every joke, every plot line, every device (they jumped the shark, like, three times) it can still squeeze some laughs out of me.  It helps that Jess is a new viewer, re-watching a comedy with a newcomer refreshes the experience, you look to them to have validation that what you think is funny is funny (laugh with me!).

            To take from this show’s theme song (the “same thing we did last week” bit) my life, and Jess’, has been its own marathon of reruns of sorts.  We did a lot of the same things daily over the last months of relative freedom (Check: Summer).  But I didn’t grow bored.  Sometimes the expected laughs are better because you know the good times are here.  What was done wasn’t much, but what was done was fun.  There was some unforgettable, at this moment only times, but between these there was plenty of the good ol’ reruns, you knew what was coming but that was okay because you liked it.

            But there’s that point where the rerun runs out its welcome, and we did eventually say no more to that show of yesteryear.  Variety is still the spice of life, and rerun after rerun of a sitcom is the direct opposite of that.

            Here I find my parallel: I had a literature teacher who believes a book can find you at the right time in your life and give you a lesson or perspective you don’t find in other places.  I for sure agree with this, and I can see it in the reading I did all this summer.  Only this time for me it was a simple sitcom, “70’s Show”.  It didn’t hit me the same way I took in Slaughter House-Five or Pride & Prejudice (name dropping, ftw), but it did show up on our local tv listings at a transition period for this household’s focus.

            You see, The Show Must Go On.  It’s Labor Day.  Summer is dead.  We need to continue our march to whatever we seek next.  Me, I’m going to back to the books and papers and space-out sesh’s that is college classes, and I am going to finish my first degree with a pimp slap to show it whose boss.  Jess is doing much of the same, minus the bitch slapping part (maybe).  I enjoyed my summer of reruns (with occasional fresh stories) but I am ready to move on to some new, meaty story.

            Not to say I won’t enjoy the occasional repeat.  A good time never goes out of style.

            I’m ready to write some new chapters.  Let the Show Go On.

            

Yeah, I had an Idea for a Story One time...

A story about a lawyer who does not argue.  I got the inspiration while at work, I realized there's many times where, in my head, I think of an objection to everyday tasks but I decide to not verbalize it.  I enjoy my Path of Least Resistance when it comes to these things that I don't give a rat's end either way about, but I am always pretty close to going the route of IAA (Insufferable, Argumentative Ass).  Maybe one day when I have a few cups of coffee over the norm.

However, speaking of IAA's, I just realized the ridiculousness of my literary idea.  The Law of Occupation (It's real, I just made it) dictates lawyers must be Insufferable, Argumentative Asses.  It is kind of the whole theme of the justice system.  This story would delve far too into the realm of fantasy to be accepted by anyone.  Get your head in the game, Tony!

Just another moment in my head.  Get out while you can.

Spirit

I have a confession.  I can be lazy.  Unambitious.  I set deadlines for myself, then I let them pass.  Guilt-free sometimes.  Most times not, I do know what I am doing isn't productive so I half-smile through my distraction.  I put off writing a lot because I enjoy it, but I want to be "good" at it.  Sometimes when you have that issue the easiest thing is to just not do it.

But, of course, that is the wrong way to handle it.  So sometimes I do plant my ass down and force myself to let spill whatever may come.  It's those times I look at the clock and see it reads 4 a.m., and I am caught wondering why do I put this writing thing off so much.  As soon as I start I can't always stop.  It just takes that first, forced step.

All this aside, this is a reflection on what it feels to write with this reckless abandon I will suddenly find myself in:

I don't always believe I am always the one who speaks through these words I loosely thread together in attempts to convey some sort of meaning.  No, I feel at times this pen scratches away at the paper with an awareness all its own, I am merely its vehicle, its harbinger for whatever news it brings.  This is not a common occurrence, but when it comes to me worry washes away and I am left with a clean desire to just say what it is I want to say.

It saddens me that I don't always feel this energy, this spirit.  The worry returns.  Quite often.  If I feel I can't say the right things in the right way I want them to be I sometimes feel it is better to not even try.  The spirit abandons me.  She is a busy spirit, I understand.  And there is no growth without struggle.  The spirit leaves me at times so I find my own way.  There is no success without the failure, bad days are just as important as the good ones.

So, I would rather the spirit does not grace me at all times, there are times I need to leave myself vulnerable to those negative and defeating thoughts so I can struggle to find meaning, purpose, and the drive to seek my vision by conquering these obstacles.  I would rather it be that way.  I would rather scratch and scrape my way through the jungle of struggle.  Because the honey is sweetest if you find it on a path you forge on your own.

However, a great comfort in life is for someone to hold you close and say, "It will be alright, this too shall pass"

So Spirit come back to me soon.  We have much to discuss and much to say.  I want to learn what it is to hear with not just my ears but with my heart and my pen....

So...Yes.

Hey wa-oh, I'm writing on here again?

Well..long story sh...well more like, well, there really is no story, actually.  I just got lazy and stopped adding my writings up here.  But I think I will work on updating when I can so all three of you can read whatever I throw up  (see also: regurgitate) here.  Thanks again!  Yeah.  Okay.

I wrote this for future GandG material (Yeah, Kevin, that means our band.  Garrick, too, but I highly doubt Garrick would take the time to bother reading this.  Prove me wrong, foo!):

Music Won’t Save Your Soul

If you don’t even know how

Music won’t be your answer

If you don’t know the question

So ask away

And see what they have to say

We grew up in another's care

Mothers and fathers

Lovers and sinners

We began this world wrapped in arms

We have since moved on

And so here we are

Sons of no one

And so here it is

Some ill forgotten –time

In another lost generation

Is that what we really want?

Or do we make our own history?

Today

Today

Today

Let’s make our own history

Today