I don’t feel anything. I’m emotionally numb and retarded. The only emotions I know are lust, desire, passion, and anger. I only feel lust, desire, and passion in bed. After I do it there’s nothing there. I’m empty. Someone pisses me off, I turn in 2 seconds to a raging asshole. Do I yell? Not unless I’m married to you. Strangers, acquittances, and co-workers I can forget about just as fast as they pissed me off. But if, I don’t I have some history, relationship, or interest in you — it’s different. I stay mad longer. Sometimes I don’t realize I’m mad until I’m alone in my head. Do anything about it? I try. But sometimes, the physical and creative work I do isn’t enough. So I get drunk and high a bit. It does nothing but get me out of myself. Do I have a problem? No. I don’t think drinking a few times a month or smoking weed once a blue moon means you have a problem. It’s a problem when you use them as a crutch. I don’t. I wish I could but that’s not me. I have a daughter now. I would never put her or myself in that position. I don’t even do those things when she’s around. I don’t judge people but they judge me. I don’t care enough about people in general to care what they’re doing.
What do you write?
Depends. Do I feel like traveling all over the place? Killing and/or haunting characters? Adding some magic or mind control shit? I like to keep things interesting and don’t stick to anything specific.
How much money do you make?
Let’s just say, I didn’t quit my ‘actual’ job. If you’re a writer or starting out as one, don’t expect to make anything. If you do, it won’t be much.
How many copies have you sold?
Maybe a dozen or more. I don’t know. I don’t look at numbers. I’m an indie writer, not a best seller…
How much of this is true?
Of what is true? Are you referring to the one ‘fictional biography’ I made of myself? Maybe a little, maybe a lot, maybe all of it… I’m not going to tell you publicly.
Well, yeah most of us are. I think to be a writer or at least an interesting one, you have to be. You have to be able to put yourself in different places. If you’re not willing to go there mentally, don’t write about it.
1. Tell myself I’m going to start writing in the afternoon. Nine hours passed… I still got nothing.
2. The times I did sit down in front of a screen… I, eh… Went on Facebook and YouTube. I swear it’s not procrastinating… It’s part of my job to monitor people I can’t stand and make myself deaf with horrible music.
3. Drink ice coffee, eat ice cream, and drink soda… Because I don’t have alcohol and only drink if I know I’m getting sex later. My hand doesn’t count.
4. Question my sexuality and existence in this world.
5. Drink more soft drinks… That is why a Wikipedia website said I was working on putting Root Beer in the universe. Still waiting on that $900,000 net worth they said I have.
6. Type a few words on the screen. Okay not the screen, my cell phone.
7. Wait for more hours to pass… Eventually type a sentence.
Look out for my novel, “Ways I fucked up my life,” in stores 40 years from now.
No you don’t. Trust me.
It goes something like this…
Drink a lot of caffeine.
Sit in front of computer.
Type a few sentences.
Go away from computer.
Come back in EIGHT hours.
Stare at my two sentences.
Close it out.
Realize it’s 12am.
Got nothing done.
Go to bed.
… Repeat cycle the next day.
What are you writing about?
I’m writing about mirrors.
What’s next drugs?
Already did. Right now I’m writing a screen script with an alcoholic/pot head.
You’re messed up.
I know, and you aren’t?
I’m special — there’s a difference. What’s your excuse?
Shitting your pants doesn’t count as “special”.
It takes a lot of talent.
I bet it does.
What else do you do?
I workout. I dance. I run. I paint. I take pictures. What am I supposed to do? Sit around on my laptop all day?
That’s what writers do.
Maybe — the very sad, lonely ones.
That’s when you start to take drinking up.
I don’t know. You should. Maybe you would be more social.
How is that social?
Go to bars, see people.
I do that already. I’m fine —
You need —
I don’t need anything.
I just want to be happy.