Writing Angry

I keep finding myself writing angry, which is actually the worst time to write.  But every time I want to say something worthwhile, I'm pissed about something.  That really can't be healthy, and it really can't be indicative of a stable mind.  Maybe I find more pleasure in the rant than in the writing... in which case, I will fail as a writer.  No one wants to listen to someone bitch, and few would read it.

That is, unless I become one of those writers.  Comedic writers.  You know the ones, the David Crosses, The George Carlins, the Bill Hicks; the ones with a chip on their shoulder and something to prove, where everything that comes out of them is a complaint.  You'd think something was wrong with them if they complimented you and didn't make it back-handed.  As funny as those men are, and hearing them rant is... I don't wanna be that.

I bird-walk.  What i'm getting at is that recently, all i've had on my mind is all the things out of my control, all the things I rebel against, fight to change, in my feeble way.  THIS is me controlling my life, fighting for change.  I haven't developed the skill of taking charge, taking action.  ...and I'm not saying you can't take charge with writing, I'm saying its not the same.  Dammit, I just bird-walked again.  I back-peddled, I stopped short of making a point, to point out something else.  Dammit, there it is again!


My name is Joshua Davis and I have something to say:

• I'm embarrassed by how we celebrate the death of a man; I'm embarrassed by the cheering that came when Osama Bin Laden was killed.  Are we so human, so animal, that we can't give a man respect in his end?
• I'm sick of working in environments that only support greed and superficial stability; get me the fuck out of children's retail, NOW!
• I'm so absolutely tired of being poor.  I've been out of my father's house and married for over five years (or maybe its six...), and I still have to go month to month, meal to meal.  And I don't own two cars, I don't wear nice clothing, I don't own the latest gadgets and electronics, I don't go to concerts and movies every weekend, I don't plan on going into debt, and I don't overspend.  My one crime is eating fast food, and that just makes me American.  Why the hell are we always broke!?!?
• I'm into lots of juvenile hobbies, but does that make me juvenile?  Maybe I could act like my grandfather, or chase "adult" passions and enjoy adult hobbies.  Anybody wanna hit the gym, talk about what they saw on TV last night?  Maybe we can compare stock portfolios or talk about our mortgages.
• I like to talk about myself.  Ya know what's funny?  I hate it!  I know I sound like an ass!
• I don't miss TV.  I don't want it, and I don't miss it.  Sure I'll catch a show on Netflix, or watch movies, but I don't miss the commercials or the scheduling of my time around some broadcasted garbage.  I'd prefer to waste my time on my own time, thank you.

Irony: this blog just devolved into more bitching.  And more bird-walking.  Digression.

I think its safe to say I just need to get it out of my system.  Today wasn't a good day for eloquence and brilliant observations.  I'm sure I'll have that in me later.

Yeah right.

I'm not my best friend

Monday, beautiful Monday.

I finally have a day off, a real day where I don't NEED to accomplish anything for anyone else.  I slept in as much as I could, and I leisurely did a few necessary tasks, and then I played a bit of video game.  Not a ton, just a few matches of Black Ops.  Then I came into my room, sat down, happily started net surfing, chilling, tried to write something...

Dammit, I'm bored.

--Really!?!  Really, Josh??  You've been chained to task after task, working at home and at Gymbo, and getting little sleep.  Now you finally have some time off, and... you're bored?  You're so bored, you're writing a blog about it.  What the hell is wrong with you??


I know, its really ironic.  I've got a busy week ahead of me, with my mother-in-law coming, a full work schedule, and most importantly, jobs to start looking for.  Today is my day to relax.  I'm just having a time doing it...

--Then do something!  What're you waiting for?  So you're stuck at home, that's not an issue.  There are plenty of things to do.  On the one hand, you could be responsible and do some laundry, maybe clean the living room, kitchen; on the other hand, there are plenty of things you could do that you'd enjoy--writing, lots and lots of writing, comes to mind.  Video games are fine and good, but your time is precious right now.  Do something!  How loudly do I have to scream at you?

My mind is really wandering right now... I'm not sure if writing anything would... work.  As in, I can't write right now.

--Too bad!  And you want to be a writer for a living?  Any career that requires you to write--journalism, writing novels, articles, reports--requires you to do so on a limited schedule and with limited preparation.  Newsroom writing is about getting it done, asap, and being efficient and accurate.  Fiction writing--are you kidding me?  If you even hope to do that one day, you need to start cranking it out, buddy.  And any technical writing will have to be done by deadline, and will require a total lack of hesitation.  Writing is expression, and proper, entertaining expression is interesting, to-the-point, and delivered in a timely fashion, thank you.


Well... is this blog entertaining?  I mean, I'm writing this blog now, and all I'm accomplishing is putting my thoughts and motivations on page.  This isn't worth reading.  I read very little; I wouldn't personally take the time to read this.

--That's not the point; the point is you're getting the juices flowing, doing something besides pulling your hair and speed-reading 4chan posts.  You're taking the time to create, and even a miserable, pathetic creation is an expression of something other than laziness and complete ineptitude.  Keep writing!  After you post this blog--and you will post it, because you need to be able to go back and read this, and see what its like in your stubborn, simple head--after you post this blog, you're going to write something else.  OR you're going to put away some of the laundry.  No choice.  You thought you had a day off; oh no, your time is MINE, bitch.


...Alright then.  I will get right on that.  I have no choice.

You are right about that, mister.