User blog:VikingFyre/What We Want and What We Get

I feel as if life in general needs to have validation, a means to know that what we do and why is noticed and rewarded accordingly. Religious folks will say that this is gained when we pass on and our deeds are measured by some godhead to decide our fate. Some live a day to day existence where everything is based on no tomorrow and only the here and now. Many wish to know that they won't be forgotten in the world, that they are acknowledged for something they've done, whether it be a deed, work of art, writing, anything that can carry on after they have long since faded.

I think I got into writing with the intention of being the last. Writing always seems to be my fallback tallent whenever my dreams of something else don't go through. I've always had a talent with the written word, which is ironic considering that my speaking talents leave much to be desired.

For years I grew up wanting to be the next Tolkien, but I realize now as an adult that perhaps I need to try and be more like Thompson. Hunter Thompson was a writer who set out to go against expectations and to defy what others believed to be the status quo. In all his works he had made commentary on political figures, goverment policies, gangs, drugs, alcohol, and all the dirty dark stuff that most of the world was either ignorantly unaware of or completely in denial of. He strove to show the world the ugly truths through his "Gonzo" journalism.

I write because it makes me happy. I write because deep down I want to be rememebered not by family or decendants (which I will likely have none of) but by what I said and the stories I told. My heart and soul screams out things that my mouth can't and on the page I can have it come out.

With the written word, I can help in a theraputic way get over a traumatic event in my life which has left me borderline sociopathic. Without acting on dark and heinous urges, I apply all these horrors unto characters and settings that do not exist and let play out what cannot happen in reality.

On paper I could construct any manner of escapism to flee to when reality begins to lord over me oppressively. Perhaps even I have some kind of god complex wherein I take satisfaction in creating and destroying at my leisure. I guess regardless of the reason, all that matters is I am a writer.

And one day, I am going to be an Author. I havae to tell myself this to keep sane, otherwise life is just pissing in the wind to me.