jordan

So lately Im starting to realize how much control I have over my own life. It never really seemed that way in the past. I always felt controlled by some kind of evil force. Only in these past few weeks have I started to realize how much someone controls their own destiny. As a writer, I always felt like getting published and making money was the way to go. That would be nice. To have that John Grisham lifestyle. To walk along the beach and roll around in the cash and bore the piss out of everyone who reads your books. Ahaha. I hear John Grisham has really ugly feet. That has nothing to do with anything, except that he spends a lot of time at the beach cos he can afford to and people have to see them. Anyway, what Ive come to realize is that what I want, all I want, is for my books to be out there. I want to leave my thoughts behind, my stories. After Ive become a maggot platter you will have pieces of me on your nightstand, youll flip through my pages, Ill still get you hard from beyond the grave. That is what matters. Not court drama bullshit bestselling crap at Borders.

So its okay. I dont mind working at a caf and having to avoid getting bit by rats as a daily goal now. Honestly, Im happy not selling out and converting to the mans way of life. I wanna slug it out with passion, I want to be the bum with endless ideas. I want to drive you mad with my insanity. I wont stop, I will never rest, until I do.

So those of you who want to read my book, I plan to get this one self-published. I will market it myself. Life is too short right now for anything else. I love this book. Its now my motivation and drive.

ALSO!!! A beautiful woman named Saya has purchased her ticket to New York. I cant wait to spend time with her. She is so inspiring, strong, intelligent. I love her. This will be AWESOME. We plan on buying a shotgun house in New Orleans one day. Well trudge through the swampy lands of Arcadia. We will wrestle crocodiles and hunt alligators. She will cook for me. Ill bring home the bible-thickness reptiles of the outdoor swander. Yeah, I just fucking made up a word. We will sip long island iced teas on the front porch and watch that city crumble. Its candy land streets melting against each other, the smells of homeless street musician sweat, dead catfish, and damp underground bars combined, blood-thirsty city life for death will be at our fingertips. Ah, yes. Okay, Im moving tomorrow. I have to pack up stuff. I hope everyone is well in this hot weather and are doing meaningful things with swollen fingers. If youre sweaty, you might as well fuck and get even more sweaty. What I say.