My True Introduction

Good afternoon and welcome to the rant. Today I’m ranting about Knowing Yourself. It’s a hard lesson to learn, especially at my age, but every once in awhile life has a way of slamming my head into the brick wall I built and force me to look at who I am, not who the world wants me to be. Today was one of those days’ dear reader, and I have to tell you…MY FUCKING HEAD HURTS!

But…I remembered who I was, what I wanted, and how I wanted to achieve it. Here’s the thing. I got caught up in the whirlwind again, bowed down to empty promises, believed things I knew couldn’t possibly be true. It happens and boy do I beat myself up when it does. Then comes the simple truth. The same thing I’ve been writing to myself for years now: I have to be true to myself.

What does that look like? Well, first off, I had to remember that it was never my dream to be Stephen King. I mean I love him, but dude had someone break into his house for a manuscript. That’s shit is crazy. Then I had to remember that my partner and I worked very hard for a very long time so that when it was my turn to pursue my dream it wouldn’t be for money. I could write, and write, and write, knowing that whatever may come won’t affect our financial standing now, or in the future.

Finally, I had to remember what I actually want. To write. To say all those things that I’ve been holding back my entire life because I didn’t want to cause trouble, or be disliked, or ridiculed, or told that I was naïve, or stupid, or worse, that I had to censor my writing in order for people to read it. I want to write for the broken, those of us that where ripped apart at a young age and then told that we were monsters or would become monsters because of it. I want to write for the intellectuals out there fighting through hypocrisy and told that their ideas, there innovations, have no place in our world. I want to write for all those people that know that this society isn’t the end all be all of human existence, that there is in fact, not only more in the universes, but there may be more right here on earth. I want to write for the people that were told that their stories weren’t important, that it made no impact, and most of all I want to write dark and super creepy shit that takes a look at my world through the eyes of darkness. I want to tear apart what I see, rip it to shreds, examine the sinew and the viscera, feel it against my skin and then devour it, spit it out and show it to whoever wants to see it.

I want to write.

Fame and fortune are cool, I’m not saying that I wouldn’t Scrooge McDuck it if I had billions, all I’m saying is that I don’t, and I’m fine with it. Nor am I bashing those that want to become famous, and I’m especially not passing judgment on those that do what needs to be done to make a living. In all honesty, I respect the fuck out of those writers because the fortitude and inner strength it takes is phenomenal. No joke. I couldn’t do it, that’s why I don’t. All I’m trying to say is that we all write for different reasons, but we all create for the same reason. To bring about something that can brighten up someone’s world. Even if only for a second. That’s what I want to do. That’s who I am and damn it, I LIKE ME.

Christopher Golden once did a panel where he quoted Ghostbusters: “If someone asks if you’re a god, you say yes!”

Well, no one asked, but the answer is still yes. Yes, I am and will be a god, to me and for me. To anyone else that comes my way, fuck, I really hope that I can be some kind of friend. Because we all need one, and today dear reader, that is you.

Anyway, thanks for hanging for the rant. I still have a bunch of emotions that I have to churn through, some old ones that are triggering disappointment for feeling them again, but they shall pass. I hope that you love yourself, and if not, that you are doing what needs to be done to make that happen. We all deserve that. I will work on the same. Until tomorrow.

Millie