First Attempt at True Contact

Hello, I'm your friend Dan. Well, I'm probably your friend. It is possible that you have come to this site as my enemy, in which case, know this: i will destroy all that you are and all that you ever have been. It is, however, more than likely that you're not an enemy, but a friend or a family member. Let me get to the point. Welcome to my blog. My first ever. How enriching.

I have started this as a means to multiple ends. To kill a couple of birds with one well tossed stone. This blog shall be primarily a means for me to focus on writing; to take time from my life and put my ideas down into words and practice my smithing. Some days I shall write short stories, sometimes I shall just talk about my life or even my supposed "emotions". That was a joke for my mom, who loves to pretend she doesn't have emotions. Imagine my childhood.

Okay, let's get back to the dead birds. The other "dead bird" is to have a method for communicating with family and friends who live far away and are not a part of my everyday life. If you've received an invitation to this blog it means that I would like for you to have a chance to see more of who I am, in case you were wondering. I would very much enjoy getting responses from such friends and family and getting to know you in turn.

I will use this site to practice my sincerity in writing. It is important to me to write from my soul and create what I deem to be good art. This requires me to release the total of my personality into my writing, holding back nothing and being utterly honest about who I am.

My goal shall be to update this blog at minimum once a week. Normally being consistant in such things is not my strong point, so this will be a good chance for a little old fashioned personal growth.

There are already several writings I shall be adding today. This will give readers something to peruse while I desperately force myself to come up with good new material. The following are excerpts from my mind. For a short time I was practicing free writes, sitting down every day and just letting words flow from my head, no editing or stopping. Here are some highlights and gold nuggets. A lot of it is silly, some of it is intense, all of it came directly from my brain with no filter.

From April 13: (This one starts off pretty ridiculous but I enjoy the progression)

Where do you get your bushels? I get mine from Nantucket! That’s an island you know? And how do I know, well I’ll tell ya, stink ass! I ate the fruit of knowledge and it told me things like things that I know. Not exactly the things I know, but things like that. Know what I  mean? Probably not here’s a story about a man named Naval. He ate peaches more than anything else and those peaches squirted all over his clothes. His momma always told him, Naval, you best start doing your own laundry, elsewhiles I’ll spank your ballsack!. Naval hated having his ballsack spanked so a laundry he would do. What do you think of that? I’ll tell you this, Naval has a history of spousal murders. That’s why he lives with his mother and she does his laundry. Until now. Now he does his own laundry and his mother sips more mint julips. They aren’t southern though, they’re from Nantucket too. Howdy DOO! Whispers from afar sound like obnoxious breezes that make you second guess who you are. (That last sentence was written because I was writing all this in a coffee shop and heard two random girls whisper and giggle seemingly in my direction) There;s some poetry for ya!

From April 14: (As many of you are aware, sometimes I have hygiene issues)

Chillin watching the world go by. Is this a good place to watch the world go by? he asked the two as they sat upon the dirt trail. They could not tell if he was being sarcastically didactic or if he truly wanted to know. Lesson learned, don't sit in strange places or people will be strange to you. Keep moving, avoid strangeness. Walk walk walk, head up but eyes looking nowhere except for the shop windows. Shopping is normal and real. spend money, send money, lend money, rend money. Bend money? That's easy. Burrowing forth introduction. Into the earth I burrow like a worm, gooed and wiggly. I cannot see a thing but forth i trudge on. Ouch, was that a root? I've been stabbed.what do i eat? plant matter and i turn it into dirt. Compost is my filth and guess what, you use it to eat. Disgusting. You are unclean. By your very essence and nature, you can not avoid it, uncleanliness is everywhere, it is the state of all things. Clean is a myth, why bother. It's the most boring myth to come from any age, why spend so much time on it? I'd rather focus on Thor or wizardry, myths that are exciting and if they were real life would be more interesting. If clean were real what the fuck good would that do?

From April 15: (I pretty much just like this one for the one liners)

How do you live life? What are the rules? Let me put it this way: go lose yourself in the eyes of the holy, go dive into the deepest of pits and wait for rescue, go lick the most disgusting of waters and force it through your bladder. These sound like direct translations of foreign insults.

From April 16: (This was from when I fucked up and was unhappy about it)

Was I born to lack success? Are the gods and fates trying to tell me to give up? Is it only natural that some people feel this way so that others can succeed to the most extreme? We can't all be winners after all, some of us must lose. Perhaps that is my destiny. To lose big time and never recover. Still, I don't know how to stop wanting. I want and I want and I want. Sack up douchebag, get some balls, take life by the horns and tell the world of your value! Such that it is. Maybe my value is truly, simply, low. How did I let myself get so depressed? Am I letting myself feel this way and act this way? It feels overwhelming, like some outside force is pressing upon me and fighting back is too exhausting. It is this sensation that makes me think of fate, of destiny. This feeling that I have no real choice in the matter and that my life is laid out in failure with little deviation, stems from the awful feeling that this weight is here and put upon me by some powerful creature that simply knows better than I. All I know is this feeling exists and I don't believe anyone out there can really explain why it is there. But maybe they can, perhaps that is part of my great failure, to realize that these things are real and chemical and treatable by those who know more than I.
Perhaps I am simply diseased, sick, and requiring scientific treatment. Or perhaps that is simply what others tell me so that they can believe that they are in control. That these powerful forces don't truly exist and so the feeling, that these forces do exist, will just go away with a little medicine.

From April 21: (Trying to work on my query letter, which is a 1 page letter you send to publishing agents to get them interested in your book)

How many times have you ridden the horse of sorrow, only to find that it leads you home? what the fuck does that mean? man I wish i had something to say about the query letter. Follow your imagination and it will set you on a path of heartfelt and exilerating life. Dammit I had a thought and lost it while i was typing that last sentence. Think about the query letter dammit. Tastes! Taste of existence. Sojourners of existence. When one comes to terms with the fact that they are merely a sojourner of existence, one wants nothing more than to take a bite from every aspect of life, to taste all that the world has to offer. Be it bitter and hard or the most delicate of sweets, it is all appreciated as something that is here and worthy of your brief time. There must be a reason why, and the answer does not matter. It is the search, the search for the answer, that makes us relish what we have and feel the essence of life throb in our blood.

From April  22: (Another little teaser about the novel I wrote with my friend Bryan. It's called Asleep in the Dirt, for those of you who have not read it)

Think about the query letter. How does it all work out? what's the theme? What's going on? Randy is our enemy but he's also a great friend. The kind of friend who is brutally honest with you even if it kinda hurts. He's the guy that will challenge you and force you to grow because he sees your potential. An obnoxious mentor of spirited adventure and ardor. Some guy is singing on the other side of the room and I can't concentrate now. What the fuck. He seems obnoxious but not like the type that would challenge you to grow or mentor you or be brutally honest. Think think think. Philosophize this shit. Make it good, make it interesting. Pull it all together. What the fuck is this book ABOUT? How does it really end? The problems are resolved when Dan and Bryan finally see how far they've come, how different things have become since the death of their friend. They finally realize that their experiences have been unique and wild and something far beyond enjoyable. They have lived a life that few others can imagine. This is good. They are inspired by this and finally take matters into their own hands, leaving the overbearing guidance of Randall in order to strike out on their own and find the adventure for themselves. They are no longer detached from their surroundings and the extraordinary events that have occured. The cleansing of their haunted souls has allowed them to see how truly beautiful and mysterious life can be if you just throw yourself to the wind and let it carry you away.


Okay that's the last of them. Now it is up to me to write more. I have 7 days from today to put up something that you will all hopefully enjoy reading. I hope this beginning has been entertaining or intriguing for you in one way or another.