An online profile, blog, journal, portfolio. I feel like such a fucking tool. Sidenote: What kind of mood do I want this journal to express? Where do I take my readers with the words written? I’ve dropped one word of choice language and I’m already asking 101 questions. I just don’t want to come off as the potty-mouthed pissant that most writers come off as while toting their two cents through a computer screen. That’s my biggest concern with myself though isn’t it? Self-appreciation.
I can’t do one thing out in public or for the public’s benefit without second-guessing everything. It really puts a halt on production in the bigger picture of things. Even now, here I am going on in my first post ever about how I don’t even know if this is appropriate for a first post. The entire inflection began with my saying “fucking” some two lines into the entire entry. With all this being said, I feel like I’ve began expressing to you all how I go about expressing myself. Have we talked ourselves in circles yet? OK! Then lettuce begin, shall we?
Timestamp: 0348 hours, Friday 24 June, 2016
“I’m just so relieved that its over. We were hanging out going nowhere, diggin’ how the guitar goes inna song that no one knows.”
Although I can’t find significance and/or any remote justification bearing weight for why I finally began writing today, I’m proud to say that today is the day. It’s been a long time coming too, as some of you whom I know personally will understand. The journey began some 18 months ago, sometime after the Christmas holiday of that year. It was holiday, so naturally one sees more of their loved ones than usual; the friends and family we only take the time to care about because we’re sharing a table of chronic food together. You know, those loved ones.
Well, following the joyous celebrations of Jesus’ birth and so on, I had a lifelong friend over to chat shit over a bowl or two; you know, catch up and compare the lives of one another since our divergence…
Looking back, its breathtaking to see the flower of my mind now, blossom from the seed it was on that day. So much growth in the last 16 months. So much change – Not my entire mind, mind you. – Just the part that wakes up somewhere in adulthood saying, “Hey dude, its coming reeeeally close to closing time”, but instead of following with lyrics to that awfully catching one-hit wonder by Semi-Sonic, you go, “Damn, you’re right Mind. I suppose I should start deciding my personal legend and figuring out where I’m gonna fit in the world for the next 30-40 years before I’m either ignored, forgotten, or both.” Or something along those lines…Now, I’m not saying that I feel the need to be famous or remembered on a grand scale by any means. I just want to leave my footprint, if you will. A legacy. But all in all, as long as I can make my mark somewhere in the world on either physical, emotional, or even metaphysical level, I’ll be a crispy biscuit. I can say I’m not afraid of much in life outside of the general terrors and phobias like snakes and other commonly creepy shit. But regarding real Fear, with the capital F, with the heart-beating-out-of-your-chest fear that makes you anxious and stressed and pukey all at once Fear, mine sits happily in the shallow pit of Failure.
Back to the point, during this reunion with the lifelong friend from above, I had an epiphany. We were going on an on measuring dicks of whats going on in life and he was, and is, doing extraordinary things with his youth: Travel, exotica, money, happy, Success. Meanwhile, I’m sitting upon the fouton in my parents’ basement that I’ll be folding down into a bed when I lay my head to sleep that night. Do you get where I’m coming from? I sat there and saw myself looking up to my lifelong equal and bestmate as a role model. I was so proud of him. He was fulfilling his own personal legend! And after that, I hated that I felt so proud of him. Above all, I hated most that I couldn’t be so proud of myself even.
In 3 days, Lifelong would be leaving the States via his upper 5-figure salary from interning at a Forbes 500 company to visit his long-distance fiancée in (undisclosed exotic country).
Also in 3 days, I would be digging the earwax from my ear as I played Yu-Gi-Oh on a Ps2 in 2016. CATCH MY DRIFT?
This singular thought sent me into another plane of existence, I tell you. My mind was racing through thoughts and memories in time, trying to decipher where I’d gone wrong. What made Lifelong succeed where I failed? I had questions galore and answers no more. For the next few months, though I made certain not to share it with Sara, I went through a sort of regression mentally; scrubbing the blocks clean and rearranging them as I saw fit. Looking back, involving her would have been beneficial for the both of us in the long run. But that’s another story fit for another time.
Anyways, after some inflection, and looking into the Lid, I came up with this grand scheme of writing. It’s always been what I do best. Talking, writing, expressing thoughts both true and false alike. Anyone and everyone has always enjoyed what I’ve had to say, even if it was to their own amusement besought by my own stupidity and ignorance. All the same, all is true. I have a way with words. So began the incredible journey of a writer. Fast forward a year and some changing of the seasons, and here we are. Summer of twenty-sixteen. I’m 24 years old. My friends call me Grandpa. My Sara calls us we. I’m ready to start writing so fuck it, C’est la Vie.
~ Wolfgang Matthews