Vol IV: #23 Feeling Alone
“The writing had better be good,” he said, as if I needed that sage advice. Good writing? Who knew? Thanks man. I’ll add that to the list of what I need to do. These I thought but did not say. My friend was trying, in desperate way, to give me the best advice he could. And he’s not wrong. If my writing is good, I’ll go far. And if it isn’t, I’ll be an internet hack till I die. But did he need to state the obvious?
And this is why I keep to myself, especially now. A 43 year old man is suppose to be buying houses and starting a family and making regular 4(O)1K contributions. He’s not suppose to be writing his first novel and learning to draw. All this, I know. But here I am, and I see no other way forward in my life.
And, rather than complain- which is super boring- I’ll ask for prayer. What I need, in addition to more resolve and peace, is community. In Redding, I feel like a like an old ball on a dusty field, half deflated, left to sit alone in the sun and rain. I’d relish the opportunity to find support in the company of other writers and artists, and to not feel like an irresponsible moron or untalented hack.
