I’m just a mostly-normal, single guy, gutting it out day after day. Since graduating college in 94, i’ve lived in MA, NY, FL, CA, NY (again), and MD. I’m just a guy who wanted to write, but something happened and in seconds I became afraid and distrustful of the voice in my head, the one that set the cadence for my stories…the one with the words, and the one that guaranteed honesty. I’ve done advertising for software companies, written direct mail (junk mail) for Publishers Clearing House, been an associate director at IGN.COM, worked freelance, worked on video games at ACCLAIM Entertainment, built websites, and been a techinal writer and software tester…but the words that I look for are still no where to be seen.
Sometimes I get lost, hovering between who I really am, and the shtick that I’ve learned can make people laugh. I put together Strangers to see if I can find what’s been lost along the way…to see if I can get past losing friends, grandparents, pets, my mom, and my muse. I once really liked myself and what I had to offer. I’m just not sure when I stopped.
I’m trying to start writing again, taking tons of photos, reading, gaming…you know….just trying to do my thing, and become smarter, more passionate, more forgiving, more accepting, more loving, more compassionate and just “better” Yeah…just “better” in the sense of getting over the flu. Someone says “how are you feeling?” You say “better.” Everyone knows what you mean. No talk of congestion, or headaches….you know…general wellness….”better”
I’ve tried everything from paying a stranger to listening to me….to writing in journals…to trying to maintain viral websites…and what i’ve found is that the only thing i’m drawn back to are “the words.” On the rarest occasions, they line up…and in that split second, I have truth.
I figure maybe I can find more of it here out on the open road.
Thanks