My Own Catch-22

I've sat in the dark for too long. 

There's a part of me that hates social media. Privacy aside (or lack thereof), it's a constant reminder of everything I don't like about people. 

Or better yet, it's a constant reminder of everything I don't like about myself. 

Yet, I'm addicted.

If you haven't noticed yet, I can be a pretty cynical person.  And if you ask enough of my friends, I have the bad habit, despite my best intentions, of being an asshole.  

But what's that have to do with anything?

Well, be it words or music (or the occasional tree-sketch), I love to write (or at least the idea of it). And anything written, in my own, general opinion, isn't worth anything unless it's shared with someone else. Granted, I understand that many people write journals and diaries and poetry and songs for themselves alone. 

And that's fine.

But I've always been under the impression that if you have any sort of talent when it comes to putting something on a page, be it words, art, or musical notes, then you should share it with someone else. Not for the sake of attention, or money, or fame (although those can be some perky benefits), but for the sake of connection with others and inspiration for others in the midst of a broken world. 

And in this age of social media, lack of opportunity for artistic exposure is no excuse. 

As for myself, I've done my best to refrain from sharing too many of my creations for the simple fact that I believe deep down that the expression of these creations isn't good enough. 

But good enough for what? A record deal? A book deal? Fame? Fortune? Attention? Respect?

Heck, I don't even write enough for any of that. 

Or...is it just not good enough to be remembered for?

Like most people, I don't want to be remembered for something shitty (if I can be so blunt). And like most amateur (or aspiring) artists, I think that's what our general impression of our own work is. 

One big fat turd. 

Which, I'll be honest, most of it is.

But they're our turds. And they're still important. And those little nuggets of our own creation, which many times stink and function about as well as a sloth in a horse-race, eventually turn into something more:

beauty, inspiration, and significance for someone else.  

So, thanks to time alone and to certain friends, I'm going to try and come out of my proverbial closet and write a little more often.

And sing more often.

And create more often.

And most importantly...share more often.

Some of it might inspire. Some of it might not. But I hope that all of it gets us somewhere eventually.

Even if it's just a few laughs. 

It's a great big world out there, and we've all experienced it differently. 

Let's share it with each other.