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… Not that: That’s Too Much

Previously, as noted in I’ll do Anything for You:  Yes, But…

It may certainly be lonely at the top, but success does make a fine partner to the loneliness.   For all those that work to climb the rungs, from the bottom to the middle, in pursuit of successful loneliness– isolation and solitude become badges of honor.

Self-doubt and self-questioning are championed by the consciousness that widespread support is an uncommon reality.   An eye-opening experience, most certainly, stems from discovering many of your “friends,” “family,” and those that “love” you– do so only as a convenient leisure.

The following gift is my experience in the world of writing, an account fashioned with ample love and truth.

…Not That: That’s Too Much

When it comes to “styles” it seems commonplace to emulate some fantastic f*cker that has already paved their own way.   Imitation may be a high form of flattery, but it also seems to be a dead-end street straight to nowhere.  After all, how many Hunter S. Thompson, J.K. Rowlings, Stephen King, Emily Dickinson, or Ernest Hemingway wannabe wordsmiths does the world need… or can even tolerate?

My personally ideal writing habit would include enthusiasm and brutality of a caveman discovering the art of pounding the shit out of a cavern to cast his self-romanticized historical identity for future generations to decipher, to decode, to learn, or to invent some sense that fits their then-modern world narrative.

Unquestionably,  there are millions, billions, or perhaps gazillions of writers around the world all trying to reach a self-defined goal that is universally known as “finding success.”   To some, the oversaturation of hacks and hackettes is too cluttered, too much, and TLDR; however, such a narrative is lazy, dull, and slothful.  There can never be “too many writers” the problem is– not enough readers.

Face it, in a world of instant gratification, reading has resorted to a lower stratum of summing up a novel via a tweet, sometimes a series of tweets as the politics of the day are settled by a scan of a tabloid headline or a meme containing 13-words or less.

Although yours truly may not wish to imitate any other, like most scribes, I read a lot.  When it comes to learning the craft, the best place for advice is plausibly found in the words of those that have already defined their identity, made their historical “mark.”

Recently, after finding myself in a lull, an emotional down point, I turned to one of my muses, Mr. Rodman Edward Serling.

Mr. Serling, commonly known as either Rod Serling or “The Twilight Zone guy” was one of the greatest story-tellers to have lived.  Obviously, this a subjective judgment, which could be defended by illustrating numerous examples of Mr. Serling’s tales from The Twilight Zone that remain just as true, formidable today as they were during the late 1950s through 1960s.

Plus, ever heard of The Planet of the Apes?

Yeah?  Well, Serling co-wrote the original script for the theatrical masterpiece starring Charlton Heston.

As a reminder, Serling managed to produce timeless classics within the constraints and limitations induced by the Hollywood “man.”   Another disputable judgment, even more impressive, is the story of the man behind the legendary works, Mr. Serling.  Anyone wishing to learn more about the real lives of past greats should consider checking out the highs and lows of Mr. Rodman Edward Serling.

The following samples serve to highlight the origins behind my seeking out the wise pre-given relevant guidance by Mr. Serling:

Foolishly, it was my belief that through branching out to pursue creative endeavors (I) would be met with my “friends” and “loved” ones actively reading, promoting, and helping my cause– but sadly, I was wrong.

Apparently, most people that I know are too busy doing their own shit, they can’t even be bothered with 5-minutes, every now and then, to read or offer any positive (or negative) feedback.   Hell, many folks don’t have any idea how much it hurts realizing that a vast majority of those considered as “friends” and “loved” ones can’t even find it within themselves to “like” such trivial things such as your Facebook writer’s page.

Later, the painful self-righteous rant would continue:

Yes, I know, nobody cares. It goes without saying, I understand the FB (Facebook) program is set around a particular custom of being a primary focus for a group ego stroking self-circlejerk. Nobody gives a fuck about such things as information exchanges, [sic] intelligent or creativity.

Nah, the platform is set around short attention spans featuring such treasures as a glimpse of them titties or pointing out one’s intellect or political position by a half-assed meme that one just looked no further than, “Hey, I agree with that” and little to nothing else. It’s also a great place to show off one’s greatness through a demonstrated ability to identify someone else’s picture or video creation that is funny.

Plus, part of the shenanigans is heavily centered around a desire to face fuck some chick that posts her pictures, after all, most face fuckings don’t just magically occur.  I “get” it.  Honestly, it sucks being different & wanting more than what the “normal” world claims as the “right” way.   Well, to play along, here’s my dedication to the blah blah short attention span circle jerk:

Insert someone else’s meme here!

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To read Part 2:

1 thought on “… Not that: That’s Too Much

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