Think I’ve gone have you? Perhaps I have who knows.

It’s not that my brain has stopped working creatively. It’s that I’m just sad, depressed or too “busy.” Which is utter bullshit but here I am saying it.

It just happens like this. I’ll write twice, three times a day for over a year, then stop for 4 months. That’s how it goes. Recharging? Is that what we’ll call it? No one cares but myself I suppose. I disappoint myself though when I don’t put out content on a regular basis, whatever that may be. Sometimes, I don’t do a damn thing, when I should be writing. But you bet your ass I’m still bitching about things. I’m still miserable.

I compartmentalize. What I was miserable about before may be gone, but underneath it’s surface are far more issues. So they’ve reared their head. This is my life, this is how I live it. Maybe it’s only me. Maybe I do it to myself. They’re still there either way.

Changing subjects slightly, now I know why not just anyone can write a book. Anyone can write. But it’s going to be trash first off. Second, anyone can write long enough to fill a decent sized book, but does it make sense? Third and most important: Everything else. Editing, designing, FORMATTING, proofing, COVER ART, what will you put in the beginning? What do chapters look like? numbering? Will there be headers? How are you putting it out? eBooks? Audio Book? All that, PLUS the fact that most likely, it’s trash and makes no sense. All of those plus #1 and #2 being right or wrong, are why not just anyone can release a book.

The time it takes to do just one of those is painful. I’m not here claiming mine are any good, one is really just a collection of these posts mixed with short stories. But point being, because I loathed the editing and formatting and designing aspect and phase SO much, I procrastinated finishing, by writing another book. It’s not amazing or particularly long, but it’ll take a few hours to get through. Isn’t that something? Realizing something you did will take hours of someone’s life. A record, an hour of sound waves input into someone’s eardrums processed by the brain to recreate what you recorded and released. That is, if they listen all the way through.

Don’t mistaken though, my books are exactly as I wish them to be. There is nothing on the back because I wanted that, it’s minimalist. Bukowski never had a thing on the back. I idolize him. Although I didn’t do it for solely that reason. I don’t necessarily do anything to copy someone, but because that’s the way I want to do it. They’ve opened my eyes and I say, “holy shit, you can do that?” They did, and so will I. I could’ve done it like most others. But I don’t care to put a synopsis on the rear. In fact I was thinking if I do any in the future, putting reviews as they do on a lot of mass paperbacks, except reviews of something completely unrelated. Why not?

I don’t dare to re-read as for some odd reason I’m typing as if I’m orating like a proper Englishman. It’ll seem pompous later. There, you see? I used “pompous.” Whatever. But my point is that (is there ever a point?) I can do whatever I want with my art. People seem to think that there’s a formula. I’m still stuck in those ruts myself, but becoming quickly unglued. (in more ways than one) They think they need to follow all those before them in order to be successful, because that’s what they did. Fair enough. But who made the rules? Assholes like you and me who did it FIRST. Someone wrote a BOOK and now it’s the rule. Sure, we play the game and do as they do because it’s what the masses expect of us in order to be marketable. But in the end, are you happy with it? Are you truly happy with it? Or do you look at the final product and go, “Yea, if only I…” “If only we could have…”

Did you sacrifice?

Just remember, no one cares.