Iron Jawed Angel

They say that creative people are messy. To be honest, I have no idea who "they" are, but I am a messy person. I have no idea if I'm creative, but messy describes me to a tee. .Picture, if you will, a room with too many different sized framed pictures in a room that's smaller than a jail cell. I have books, newspapers, rag mags, DVDs, candles, leopard/zebra sheets that are NOT on the bed, but a laptop that is. A movie is playing (Shattered Glass) that I'm listening to the commentary because, well, I'm a commentary junkie. My hair is up in a half bun/half bulked mass of snarls and knots and I'm typing on a refurbished laptop while cockroaches crawl on the ceiling (to be fair, they were in this shithole before I moved in.)

 

One of my professors said, "If you're writing now, your a writer." Then again, she also said, "if you want to be a writer, get a day job." I'm not a big fan of her pompous behavior, but I no longer go there, so it doesn't matter. I'm one of those people who say, "I want to be a writer," despite the fact the I already wrote published things (my Senior project from school). I have no self esteem in a generation FILLED with assholes who think their hot shit because they have a YouTube channel and 800+ friends on Facebook.....I have 265-ish. Oh, and when I say published, I mean self-published on Lulu.com

 

Still, it's pretty cool to hold a book that has my name on the cover.

 

"Disservice With A Smile"--it's a full length play that no one had bought. There's still a few mistakes in it (I failed to align the dialogue properly and I think I put a comma where a period should be. *smashing head repeatedly into my cell wall*)

 



Sometimes I swear I'm certifiably insane or possibly bi-polar. I get bursts of ingenious spats of writing in a few hours time then it'll take me weeks to write one line of dialogue. I go from topic to topic to topic: Family, Politics, Fidelity, Class, ICP. Religion, Faith, Fear, and Death could be in a simple twenty minute conversation just to keep the uncomfortable silence at bay.  

 

Hopefully, whenever I get antsy again, or angry about anything, I'll just explode via type, rather than scream it aloud at the top of my lungs, only to be ostracized for simply speaking my mind in the silence of the broken family.

 

They say creative people are messy. Maybe it's a thing about controlled chaos...or maybe I'll be on the next episode of Hoarders. Either way, I'll just keep at it until someone reads its, laughs and go on his/her way.