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So, I was on my way to Carnegie Hall...
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When I was in Freshman Comp in college, (just community) my professor and I used to butt heads like crazy. We just couldn't agree whatsoever on my writing. Funny, how he is probably the teacher I ended up respecting very highly and "obviously" still remember. Anyway, my point was going to be that one of the assignments in that class was to write daily in our journal. The premise being that it didn't matter what you wrote, as long as you wrote something every day, because writers write every day. Even back then my writing wasn't much different than what you guys have already experienced in just a few short days. That being my point. This was fifteen years ago and he wrote at the end of my journal...wait let me get it...so I don't paraphrase. ...
He wrote...nevemind, it's out in the garage and I'm not getting dressed again to go out there. But what he said basically was that he didn't understand half of what I ever wrote but that my life was pure anguish and misery and that would make me a terrific writer. Somehow, I think he would be saddened to learn where I am now and what I have achieved. More correctly, have NOT achieved.
I could have been a guitarist. I could have been a piano player. I could have been in a band. I could have been a songwriter. I could have been a writer. I could have been a medical examiner. I could have been a lawyer. I could have been a teacher. I could have been a DJ. I could have been a friend. I could have been a lover. I could have been a husband. I could have been a soul mate. I could have been anything I wanted. It just never happened because there could have been so many things I could have been...I became nothing. Never knowing how, or which one to choose. There have been many times when I wished I was simple mindeed and adept at only one vocation. Then again, there have been many many many more times I wished I was invisible. Unfortunately, I think the latter came true. Even more unfortunately, it wasn't the cool kind of invisible where I could sneak into girls' locker rooms and peek.
This kind of invisible is much worse. I do realise it is by choice. My choice. In fact, I"m not even sure I feel sorry for it anymore. I have become very good at disappearing. Of course when your only social contact is through the internet...disappearing and becoming invisible is but a mere thought and quick press of the DEL key. I've done it before and I'll do it again.
Just a little quick aside for you. A moment from my past, just so you realize that not EVERYTHING is in my head. about five years ago I met a girl in chat. Typical chat story I guess. We hit it off. Talked 20 hours a day online, moved to the phone and eventually met. But let me get back to that in a minute. You see, a relationship online is COMPLETELY different than a real life relationship. Don't let anyone tell you differently. Online relationships are intense. Condensed. Intimacy in its purest, untainted, unadulturated, most powerful form. No physical intimacy, jut pure emotional intmacy in a powerfully condensed, rapid evolutioin. You tell each other everything, and then you each sit and smolder in the intimate knowledge of each other with then multiplies the effect ten fold, seperately, yet together. I know that didn't make too much sense, but it's hard to explain. Anyway, we actually set a wedding date (8/2/2) I thought that was a cool date, plus my birthday was in august.  I lived in San Diego, she lived in Kentucky. We eventually did meet. I flew out there. We both learned a lot that weekend. It was like all the work the entire relationship we built online was a different species of animal I guess it was like we had built this sandcastle and found out we couldn't live in it in real life.
Now, don't get me wrong. I beleive it waa my fault it didn't work. I was so disappointed and heart broken when I learned that our relationship would have to start over in the real life, and the fact that we were still going to be separated by 2000 miles was too hard on me. So I looked for reasons it didn't work. I'm not saying this to be sorry for myself or masochistic...but I really think it was my fault...
Anyway, I was on my way to Carnegie Hall...
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