And these, my worldly friends, are Americans.
Notice the immaturity in their responses as well as their unwillingness to see more than 5 minutes in front of them. Yes, the American is an interesting creature; one that votes for a president because they affiliate themselves with a political party and not because that candidate has their best interests in mind.
Yes, Americans…more than willing to say that everyone should follow a certain set of rules…except themselves, of course. Special exceptions for them!
Oh, yes. Americans…so upset about supposedly nothing being done to lower the deficit, yet refuse to do anything about it themselves. Indeed, they are a strange people. Only they would immediately assume a Muslim or an Asian was responsible for the bombings in Boston with absolutely NO proof.
Only they would disrespect the office of their leader by offering him snide remarks and heckles instead of actually calling or writing their own senators and congressmen to take part in the democratic process. And yes, they will mock me as well for saying these truths and still not offer any solutions to the problems we face in our country today…like perhaps seeing the bigger picture on things like abortion where we should respect that fact that it is the woman’s decision to have the procedure or not and none of their business. After all, I don’t walk into their homes and tell them how to live or what to believe in. Heck, if I did, they would probably shoot me…which would be fine because they might have seen me as a threat…which is strange because although they have the right to shoot me if i enter their home, a gay couple has no recourse when they tell them they cannot get married.
And why can they not get married? The bible, that’s why! Yes! Americans look to a 2 thousand year old text; a collection of stories passed down for generations and still try to apply all the rules in it to life as if it applied today. They say no! You cannot marry because in the bible it says a man shall never lie with another man as he does a woman. And yes, only Americans would then conveniently ignore the part where is says we should sell our daughters into slavery. They’ve also cherry picked a few other things that they think we should ALL follow, even though not all of us follow that religion, but hey…they’re AMERICANS so we should never question THEIR ideas, right?
Only within America is it considered bad to, god forbid, change your mind about something! That’s right, folks! Only in America do you get branded with the name “Flip Flopper” for changing the way you see the world…unless you go from disagreeing with them TO agreeing with them. Apparently, that is just fine.
An interesting and sometimes hilarious bunch, these Americans are! Only they would take to Twitter after seeing the movie Olympus Has Fallen and begin spouting hateful things like “Fuck all the gooks!” and “Fucking Asians should all die! Kill them all!” and think it were perfectly fine. After all, hey! Freedom of speech, right? That means I can say anything I want, right? In America, we’re free to do what we want , too! In fact, one could say those are one in the same…but then again, just because I have the freedom to run full speed into a cactus doesn’t make it a good idea. The same can be applied to freedom of speech. Sure, you can say anything you want…but should you? Calling for all Asians to be killed is technically freedom of speech…but wait…we have Asian Americans. Should we kill all them, too? Guess that’s not such a good idea after all…so let’s instead say KILL ALL THE MUSLIMS!
But wait…there are Muslims that are also American citizens. Should we kill them as well?
But hey, this is still America! A country where if the terrorist is white it must mean he is mentally ill…or it was the fault of violent video games or metal music. Yeah, that must be it… because if the terrorist was brown it MUST mean he just hates America and therefore he and everyone like him should die! Right?
So, I hope you all enjoyed the tour as much as I did. I’ve done this tour a handful of times and I must say, I still find myself surprised at the end of it! Americans…so quick to judge, so quick to bash others, so quick to tell all the “niggers” to go home…even though the white man brought them all here by force. Hold on, I need to look up the word irony.
Ah, yes! Here we go! Irony! Bitching and complaining that American jobs are leaving the country…while at the same time complaining that the Chinese-made goods at Wal-mart are still too expensive.
Oh, those crazy Americans! I always have to deal with their petty threats. They’re always saying I’m unpatriotic by saying these things and they feel the need to make the same old threats to me. One even told me that if I loved China so much, why don’t I just move there…posted from his Chinese-made iPhone.
On a whim, I wrote a short story of about 5700 words. I’m not trying to sell it at all, just did it for fun. The link is right here. You can share it all you want. Enjoy.
Buy Rumbling Heart @ Barnes and Noble
Today, a dream that I’ve dreamed since I was young finally came to fruition. I have , on my own, written, edited, and released a book, completely of my own creation. While I admit I am not Hemingway when it comes to writing novels, I would like to think he would have looked over my book, gave it a good once over and said to me “That a decent start, kid. Keep writing.” Unfortunately, Ernest isn’t alive to give me such positive feedback, so I am having to look elsewhere for readers and honest opinions.
I know I’m not some amazing writer who is going to change the world. Hell, I may not even make you think twice about rereading my book once you have it in your possession, but I hope I can at least entertain you and stimulate your mind, if even for just a few nights while you make it through my novel. I’ve spent countless hours and many late nights working on the words and the text and the idea behind my work just so I can make it as perfect as I can just so I can release and look at it and tell myself that I did it. I really did it.
I cannot say how many times I’ve broken down in tears while writing and editing this book as many of the supposedly fictional scenes do have real life events intertwined in them, many of which I would rather forget, but for reasons I cannot understand, never seem to leave my thoughts.
I am sick and I know I am. That shouldn’t keep me from leaving a mark on this world though. I keep telling myself every single time I wake in the morning that I should give it at least one more go around, just one more try. Just one more try before I cash in my chips. Just one more try before I call off the search. Just one one more try before I hear my exit music begin to play.
I am putting a lot on the line here and I am done hiding behind a fake smile and false positive emotions. I hide it all from everyone, even my family. They see me and they think I am ok, when I know I am not. For all I know, maybe they know I’m not ok and that’s why they keep me around. I still cannot shake those events from December of 2009 and it haunts me every single day. It will always haunt me, but it will not define me. I want to leave a mark, a legacy before it’s all said and done with. With these characters I’ve created, I hope to do just that.
John, Olivia, Emily, The Chris’s, Donna, Stella, Paul, Audrey…they are all a part of me in ways many of you will never understand. While they all, within my work, define what it is to be human, they also show us a side which I wish we could all live up to. While we move through our daily routines and go to our jobs, raise our children, go to our schools, we all, if even for a short moment in time, wish we could be the best person we could possibly be. We all wish the person we were at our best would never leave. We all wish to be the greatest parents to our children. We all wish to be the children that we know would make our parents proud. We all wish to be the husbands and wives, girlfriends and boyfriends that our partners have always wanted. We all wish to be the best friends we could be, letting our friends know that they could come to us for anything and at anytime and never be judged. However, we all know that this isn’t how the world really works.
In the real world, we seem to casually wade through our lives, looking out only for ourselves and never looking back to see the people that we’ve stepped over to get to our final destination. While some of you read this, you all will surely say to yourself “Well, I’ve never done that…,” but sadly, we all have. We get angry over things that do not matter. We sweat the small stuff. We yell at our kids and our friends and our spouses. People lose their jobs and are forced out of school. Parent’s abandon their kids and children disappoint their parents. Our friends get into that car even though we know they’ve had to much to drink, and yes…sometimes our friends lose control of their car and destroy a family on New Year’s Eve.
It’s been said that we are the sum of all the people we’ve ever known in our lives and maybe that’s why I am still going. Maybe that’s why I’m still writing. Although I cannot remember many things from my childhood, there is still something pushing me to write and to speak and to talk about what I cannot recall. Maybe this was the way it was supposed to be. Maybe I was supposed to die when I was a child. Maybe I was supposed to die when my ex wife held that gun to my head, and maybe I was supposed to swallow all those pills in 2009 while all those voices steadily urged me to kill myself.
I release a book, and with it, I release myself. I release all those feelings that were supposed to have died within my trembling soul all those years ago. I know that this was what I was meant to do in this life. For so many years, I asked myself “What’s this life for?” Now I know. It was to think and to feel and to smile and to laugh and to hurt and to cry and in so many ways, I’ve already loved more than I could possibly love in an entire lifetime, but I’ve also died a thousand deaths.
Each night, just me and my keyboard, the pain bleeds out of my hands as I write. All of those long nights have finally produced something of value. And with no cheers and no fan fair, I present to the world my Rumbling Heart.
Here is the synopsis I came up with for my book. This is what will appear on both the Amazon and Barns and Noble listing. As soon as the purchase links are available, I will post them. Some of you may already notice the updated links to the blog. While I am getting things set, the book is not yet available, but will be in the next day or so. Enjoy.
Rumbling Heart Synopsis
After escaping the clutches of his abusive ex-wife, John finds himself living a rather dreary and reclusive life in Eureka, California. By choice, he works at a menial job where he gets paid very little, and barely makes ends meet. One day he comes home after quitting his job during an altercation with his boss to find a strange note taped to his door, instructing him to check his email. Letting his curiosity get the best of him, he checks to find an email waiting for him from the international conglomerate known simply as The Company. The email offers him a chance to secure employment with one of the most employee friendly companies on earth so without delay, he replies to the email and provides The Company with all of his personal information. Within minutes, he is contacted by phone and an interview is setup. As he gets additional information about the company, he is told about all the benefits he will reap once he is employed. One such benefit is so bold and unique that is takes him completely by surprise and because of it, he is eventually introduced to an emotionally odd, yet adorably quirky woman named Anna who is also employed by The Company.
As their friendship progresses, John is forced to look inside himself and reexamine his life as he and Anna’s relationship begins to morph and change into something much more than he expected. Weary of getting close to anyone, John struggles with his past, but ultimately decides to try to open himself up to new things, but little does he know, his new companion is hiding something from him that will rock the foundation of their friendship and send him into a tailspin of emotion.
He also unexpectedly grows closer to the beautiful and intelligent Human Resources manager Emily, his first contact within the company, who appears to have only his best interests at heart. As he begins to trust the bold and confident Emily with more, he finds that she too may not be who she seems. Soon, John finds himself in a minefield of mystery and deceit and over time, he finds he must either deal with the gatekeepers of secrecy or devolve into lunacy as his past continues to haunt his thoughts and his life.
So since my date of release is looming, I decided to get together my acknowledgments page and I am trying to think of all the people who have helped me in getting this project off the ground and kept me inspired through its development. Some people are very obvious while others I am still trying to nail down. I am not putting people in it just to appease friends or family. I am looking for those who have offered some sincere insight into what I have been trying to do.
Looking back to the end of October when I just opened up Word and started writing with no real purpose, things have changed a great deal and some people have played a role in the completion of my book. It saddens me to think that there have actually been 2-3 people who have looked down on me not only for writing, but even for going back to school. I kept thinking to myself how awful their lives must be to find nothing better to do that to try and tear someone’s dream down and make them feel as if they will never accomplish anything. Well, I am happy to say to those few people who hated on me…KISS MY ASS.
In less than a month, my dream of putting my work out there for people to read is going to come true, and to be honest, I don’t care if i sell just a measly 10 copies. I will be happy to be read by any and all readers, and if my work can leave even the slightest impact, I will feel as if I have accomplished my goal. It’s not often that people can see a life dream come to fruition, but I am thankful that it will for me. Obviously, any money I make off the project will be welcomed as I am still just a poor college student. I never expected to get rich off of this; all I wanted was to be heard.
Well, as the day draws closer, I am clearing my throat and hoping for the best. That being said, even if the best doesn’t happen, I will never stop writing…I can’t stop writing. My mind will never rest. I have accepted that. It is the reason I cannot sleep. I wake in the middle of the night after maybe an hour’s rest and cannot help but turn on my computer and write until my fingers tingle with pain and fatigue. And the few hours I am able to sleep, the dreams never stop coming. They haunt me and speak to me and the voices carry on like a choir of musing. The inspiration surrounds me from all sides as if i am being pursued by a ghost of ideas as it desperately pleads with me to share it’s ideas with the world.
I will always be that outcast and I will always be different from everyone else, and now I know why. I am who I am and I write what I feel, and the voices in my head will not rest. Ever. My legacy will be intertwined with my creations, and through my work, they and I will live forever.
We reviewed this poem in class the other day and I have to say, it was so profound that it stuck with me for the rest of the day. It was so good, I figured I would share it with as many people as I could. Enjoy.
Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he’s dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
In what has seemingly been a marathon of revising, I finally finished going through all chapters and finished making major corrections. Those chapters in the master document, which already had a third look, are about to get a forth as I was able to see a few errors I somehow managed to miss in the revision which placed them in the master document. While I have no plans on tearing apart the master, I do think going through all of them one last time would be a good idea.
I am getting a little anxious now as I realize that the finish line is definitely in sight. While it will not be released to any real praise or fan fair, I will finally be able to say that I worked on and completed a true novel, 100% on my own. All I can hope for is that I will make a modest amount on its sales. I have no real expectation money wise, thinking I will just be thrilled to be read at all. I don’t expect people to like the book cover to cover, but i hope the story will touch them in someway, if even for a moment.
Cherry blossoms trickle down from the sky, and the grass is soft, lush, like a bed of down on a cool, spring day. I look skyward and speculate on the clouds before me, wondering what each one looks like. Trains and trollies, and teddy bears consume my being; the light, northern breeze kisses my exposed skin. My knees are pointed up and I feel as if I am being watched, in fact I know I am for I can see her out of the corner of my eye. She stares at me and wishes her wish of carefree days and endless nights, the pattern of bittersweet days having taken their toll. Her red hair sways out across her rosy lips as the wind plucks her lavish locks out from under her hand which attempts to hold their listless flight at bay. Her heart beats and rumbles, and her blue eyes glisten with sweet delight as she steps closer to me. Finally, I turn to her and our eyes meet, and startled shivers exert their force upon her shadowed visage. Her eyes show her grief and we both know I cannot stay here like this, relaxing in her silhouette for long. Four days and six hours have passed, and every waking moment we have spent together, and every moment in slumber she has been in my arms. I’ve read her mind, her thoughts melancholic, and I know her heart for she has told me of her incorrigible desire to keep me with her. We hold each other’s gaze as we listen to sounds of children at play, our unborn child still just a dream.
The breeze picks up and she sits down beside me to show me her cruel and lovely intentions. Her theft, of such brilliant and tireless devotion, was only the beginning of our unforeseen affinity, and the loss of such a strong defense was not bitter, but a welcome circumstance. Her company was not granted, but more a luxury, a state of which much due diligence had been paid. As I turn my eyes back toward the heavens, she joins me for the critical view, and I take a breath that precludes all fallacy of reason.