Though I love to write, I have been pretty harsh on myself to the point that I hardly share anything I work on. I have been trying to get out of this habit recently, with this blog and collective being one of the ways I hope to change.
This excerpt comes from something I wrote in November (according to the timestamp) and seems to be part of an abandoned short-story:
When the house gets real still, maybe before she wakes up or something, my mind will begin to wander. Eventually it always goes back to those days, those easy days just a few years back. For whatever reason, I lost the ability to empathize with this man that used to be me. It's like reading a novel with a main character you don't really like all that much. You just can't get in his head- can't understand why he does what he does even though he reminds you so much of yourself. I don't mind losing the bad parts, but for the life of me, I wish I could remember the good parts more clearly. 5 years. 5 years and all I have to show for it is a single, long, blurry image and vague after-effects of feelings I can barely remember experiencing. The sad part is that no one else seems to have forgotten what happened. I see it in their eyes. I feel it in their actions. I was once the prizefighter now I am the broken-down man that people chip a coin or two out of reverence for his decaying victories.I'm particularly interested in writing about dreams, science fiction, history and being young in this world.
I have been planning on setting up a workspace in my outdoor shed to work on stenciling and experimenting with making chalkboards/chalkboard art this spring and summer with Preston. To this end I have experimented with making logos primarily and exploring the world of typefaces (I kind of have a thing for Futura and Akzidenz-Grotesk).