Sorry for this

Snow day, Iced up my mind.

I have been too discouraged to have much to say lately. I've thought of all types of apologies to follow that sentence up with, but I will just let it be what it is. I find myself completely devoid of any inspiration or any pride in what "I do." The more I look around myself the more I see the decline of the written word. What I mean by that is, no one respects or understands it. I am even a far cry from what writers used to be. So don't think I'm patting my own back or setting myself apart. To be completely candid it destroys my drive and my spirit to not have the people close to me supportive or impressed by the few things I choose to share with them. A large percentage of the time they don't even bother to read it. Excuses being things such as "Well I just can't understand it." By saying that you are telling me I've pretty much failed as a writer. If you can't understand it that's my fault, because I am not attempting to shoot over your heads. Just sometimes describing the ambiance of a feeling or situation may require an abstract picture. That doesn't mean it should be hard to understand. What is a writer with no reader? A fish with no water. I know that most people probably look at the things a writer will hand them and think, it doesn't really matter, it is like a hobby, it requires a base acknowledgement like 'yes that was nice' a pat on the head and that is it. We are no different from anyone else. We want to see enjoyment on your face, we want to see a reaction we want to hear it good and bad. Writing is our heart and our passion, but it is a lost art people seem to treat as worthless.

I am no writer, I've spent the last few hours reading through things from years ago I have written and I am not all together sure what I am doing or where I am going. It's painful. On top of all that I have absolutely no support to fall back on, no one that really has put any time and effort into being that rock in my life that can reinforce me when I need a leg to stand on. Part of this makes me angry at God. For creating me with a desire to be a writer and building no support group into my life. Then my reason kicks in and makes me realize that perhaps I just need to surround myself with people who share the same desires as I do. I don't believe I have ever had a good friend who was also a writer or interested in literature at all. I know that it is true of myself that my best ideas are found when I have someone else to refine them against. I know that I am mostly, if not totally, to blame for all the things I have felt. I should never let things like that influence how I feel about writing, or effect my performance.

I have noticed that the older that I get, the farther I fall away from my Imagination and that basic creative spark we all have as children. I remember very vividly dreaming up whole worlds to play in. When I try now I feel that if you looked at me you could see the black smoke floating away from my head. What that tells me is that I have just isolated myself. I have failed to use the skills and abilities I had, so they have grown rusty. When I try to turn the gears and they stick and the motor won't start I all too easily throw up my hands and just walk away from it. So what is the oil for that problem? I read, I read a great deal, if that was the balm that would get my machine working, I would be running top speed without a problem. I will say that I could without a doubt practice my writing more. I would love to, but subject matter always gets me stumped. I would ask you guys to help out by suggesting things to me, but I know better than that. So maybe I need to take some writing classes, get my head back in the books. I'm good at that. I'm very good at studying and learning. The only events at which I could run into fellow writers would be ... (frightened and horribly disgusted face)... poetry readings. I think there was only once in my life I ever actually enjoyed a poetry reading. I often found myself too turned off by the emo nature of all the poems to feel very inspired. Bodies in bath tubs and lipstick with thongs just doesn't do it for me. Maybe I should just bite the bullet and go anyway, I'm no diamond.