I have no idea how people who write for a living on a daily basis manage to do that. The discipline involved in such efforts would elude my grasp, just based on the attempts with this I make. Most days, when I sit down to type these, I have no idea what they will be about-and many times, when I stop, I still don't know (feel better now, doncha?).
I'm honored you stop by to glance at or read this stuff-and even more so if you offer a comment or send me a note (setting fire to a paper bag filled with dog poop on my porch was, I suppose, a unique response, though one I'd have preferred to skip, especially since I was barefoot at the time), so please don't be upset when I tell you that I think I write for me rather than for you.
This gathering of ones and zeros in the wires and vapor known as the World Wide Web is where I've planted my claim to be the heir apparent to the Kingdom of the Invisible though I suspect, like so many of my other dreams and schemes, it will fall far short of my goal. I suspect though, that's okay since it really is the journey and not so much the destination, not that most days I can tell them apart.
If you, as you've cursed the Literacy Volunteer for giving you the skills to read this, have found yourself shaking your head in laughter, pity, anger or disbelief, I'm actually pleased, since provoking a reaction was really beyond my wildest dreams. I was, and am, tired of a life of Comfortably Numb and even if you think unkindly of me, and you have plenty of company, (and nearly a thousand instances of proof to support your position) I've managed to drag you into the world we, together, have made. What we do next is just as much up to you as it is to me.
I've always insisted people be an exclamation not just an explanation--a blog like this gives me a bigger soapbox from which to shout to the heavens to see if Anyone is listening. And because no one has so far, doesn't mean that today isn't the day. I remember as a kid wanting to grow up. Now, at age older than my old man ever got to be, I've conceded that all I've done is grow older. No one's loss--and if all these scribblings prove to be is barking at the moon, then so be it.
Welcome to the carnival, but you must be THIS tall to ride this ride. And the Ferris wheel turns and turns, like it ain't ever gonna stop. And the circus boss leans over, whispers in the little boy's ear, 'Hey son, you wanna try the Big Top? All aboard! Nebraska's our next stop." Die hunde bellen, but the caravan moves on. I wouldn't have it any other way.