I am in a very strange, yet all to familiar place. I haven't hit the keys (or picked up a pen) in so long. Its almost to a point where I was afraid to share my thoughts, and then I remember its what gives life to my being. Self expression has always been a powerful tool I used to rekindle the flame within. The fire that beings to flick as I waste away at my 9 to 5. I can almost see my creativity leaking from my loafers as I sit there behind the computer screen, but I have to keep the lights on.
I had a revelation. I said that instead of always wishing and waiting to be noticed, I will create more channels to seen.A fool proof plan so it seemed. What makes it most difficult is realizing that I could post a Facebook status about how much I love to drink banana smoothies, and I can get 43 likes, and 16 comments (maybe 3 retweets if I was on twitter) but the moment I post a video or piece that I put my all into I get 1 share, and only after I asked someone to do it. Such is life on social networks. The same song of any local artist. Passion, Drive, a half tank of gas, and about 16 dollars. You never lose the stars in your eyes as long as you never stop looking at the sky. My neck is starting to hurt.
Believe it or not, I often wonder about what will be said about me when I die. Not that I am awaiting death or anything, just that I want my story to be amazing, a legacy if you will. The last thing I want someone to say is "Richard always was good for... a strong handshake." I want more for myself, even in stories told after I am gone. As I stretch to pick up the pen again, I hope to find the sactuary I have been searching for. Even in concluding this paragraph, I feel something small. Something pushing through, I want to share this.
So begining now I will tell my own story. The way it happened. To me, by me. The actual accounts. My thoughts, my truths, and the lies I have lived. I hope you enjoy this reading as much as I will have writing. Here is my forward. From me to you...Relentessly Yours...