I want to tell you a dream. Let me take you back to grade school. I stood in line with all the other boys and girls, waiting to tell the class what my future job was going to be. John dreamt of being a lawyer, Jane wants to be a pilot, and Aaron wanted to be a doctor.
Now it’s my turn in line to finally tell the class what I want to be when I grow up.
I want to be a writer! Yes, I’ll write about music and awesome videos and art direction, and and cool movies! I’ll grow up and be really really famous and wealthy! Oh boy, it’s going to be swell. Do I finally get to sit down, Miss Burnham? Miss Burnham? It feels like I’ve been waiting in line for decades… Miss Burnham?
So now back to reality. How am I going to be a writer? I’ve clicked and browsed into it. Read a blog or two on tips to being a writer and that’s all. So basically, I know nothing. I have no clue if this is something I should even go after. I have no idea if this is something I can sustain. I used to love creative writing decades ago but I don’t know if it’s the same for me now. I’m in my late forties, I haven’t done any serious writing since college. I’ve barely had any education in writing. What little I do have, I vaguely remember.
I don’t have a lot of choices left in life. I’ll never be a lawyer, pilot, or a doctor. I’m too broke, literally. I’m too financially, mentally, and physically broke to do much in life now. Plus, I’m still too scared of talking to people I meet when I go out. I haven’t worked in almost 10 years. I’m at the Start of the Monopoly board with no money. I know realistically that is a store clerk or a fast-food manager in the middle of nowhere USA is about the only place in life I can achieve. I’m not knocking those jobs, they are important. Imagine your world without that convenience. But I still have dreams of doing something great.
That is why I want to believe this could work for me. I can’t do physical labor. For now, I can’t talk to people day after day. Financially I can afford to write as much as I can, I have the time, I’m in a stable place in my life. My wife and I have a house over our heads, she’s got a great job and we can feed ourselves. I can write until I get to a better place mentally, where I can talk to and be around people.
Once I feel comfortable enough talking to people again, I can start a part-time job somewhere. All that time I can just keep writing. Once I settle down in a comfortable spot in life, I can stop. Or I can just keep living the dream of wanting to write for a living. This could be my hobby, my diary of life that a person or two can glimpse at through their journey of life.
I’m getting anxious just thinking about this. I wanted to start this blog to help myself recover from depression; this will be the 8th article I’ve written. Reality check, Am I crazy? Am I wrong for wanting to try? I don’t want to be, I want to do something I like for a living, who doesn’t. Why not just give it a try? Why not just write about what I like and know about? At worst it will help me become a better writer. It will have given me a creative outlet till I’ve found a more grounded and realistic path to go down. At best, truthfully for me, I get some employment, something that can help us scrape by with a bill or two.
This is my dream, maybe it will change, maybe it won’t. For now, I’ll just keep plugging away, one article at a time, and see where this path leads me to. You are all welcome to see where it goes too. Slow motion reality blog?!?