Gut Rumbles
 

March 22, 2004

inner demons

I have a theory about people who do "creative" things. Artists, poets, musicians, writers or whatever-- they don't look at the world the way some very successful insurance salesman or some rich car dealer does. The insurance salesman and the car dealer are in it for the money. That's really all they care about. I couldn't live my life if money was all I cared about.

Creative people are both highly empathetic and highly selfish at the same time. It's a weird dichotomy, but I firmly believe that my theory is true. I know too many people who DO NOT see the world the way I do and I know too many people who never had an original thought in their brains, and they never will.

Sometimes I envy those witless drones. They don't wrestle with inner demons. They strut blissfully through life and stay happy as long as the bank account is fat. They don't understand people such as I.

They don't see a sunrise or a sunset the way I do, nor do they look at the stars at night and dream the way I do. They all beleve that I am crazy and they are not, because I am a dreamer instead of a schemer. The schemer always wins and the dreamer always loses. Why be a dreamer? Sometimes, you do it simply because you HAVE to. That's they way you're built.

I wrestle with inner demons every day. I didn't ask for the restless urge to write that I have, but I've felt it all my life. What causes that? Many people tell me that I am "talented" and "eloquent" as a writer, but they don't know the amount of words I've put on paper in the past. I have worked long and hard to sharpen a skill that I decided to pursue.

Fuck talent. Writing is difficult WORK.

I did a good job for 24 years in a chemical plant (KERR MCGEE) and got fired because I wrote politically-incorrect posts on this page. I am about to get totally railroaded in divorce court by my bloodless cunt of an ex-wife because I got a fine severance package when the company let me go. That's what happens when dreamers compete with schemers.

Yeah, I wrestle with inner demons, but the words simply MUST come out of me. If I tried to stop writing, it would be like trying to cork a volcano. I would blow the plug and spew lava anyway.

I'll do it until I die. I'll probably lose everything I own because of that fact, but I'm too old to change my ways. I am a creative person. I wrestle with inner demons and I don't always win.

That is the fate I chose, and I chose it willingly. I'll live or die that way.