That old addage (or maybe not so old – I think I heard it in an Alien Ant Farm song, aptly titled, “Movies”) life is like the movies has been rattling around in my head for years… years and years. And actually, that song has really nothing to do with life being like the movies.
What the fuck am I talking about?
Life. Freaking life that, if lived in a somewhat reckless manner (or a complete cluster fuck of utter abandon), really can give you shit to write about, talk about, laugh about, cry about.
Anyway, I tend to get preachy and condescending in posts and I promised I wouldn’t do that in this blog. I promised myself that for once, I’d write from my fucking heart. Let it bleed on the page all gooey and gross to either be scooped up, swept away or blatantly ignored.
Because I need to write for me. I need to tell my story for me and yeah, I need to put it out in the world because that’s just what I need to do. It’s kind of like a form of validation.
This really happened to me and it may have happened to you (in similar or different ways) but it happened. So there.
Sometimes I feel like I am a big joke that God (I’m kind of questioning God these days, but I still pray every morning, out of sheer fear of fire, brimstone and clowns) or the universe created for amusement.
Because for the most part, things have gone relatively well for me…. but then again, they’ve been total shit.
I’m an alcoholic. Sober since May 26, 2006… but an alcoholic forever.
Before I got sober I was a fucking basket case with a death wish and I just couldn’t die.
And I really tried. Three suicide attempts and ten years of vodka, Blackaus, pills and cocaine sprinkled with sketchy decisions.
Could. Not. Die.
So, now since I couldn’t die I have this notion in some tripped out narcissistic, egomaniac way that I was put on this earth for something bigger than myself.
And that made me feel guilty. And oh, how the loathsome love guilt. But I am trying to put that guilt on the shelf (with that creepy ass clown) and honestly make the world better, somehow. And then I thought, surely others have felt this way else we wouldn’t have any famous people, world leaders, etc.
So I’ve kind of squashed the guilt between the size five jeans I no longer fit into and writing.
So, we’ll see where this goes.