Certain rooms call for certain things, depending on differing tastes. Some rooms liven up with various colors, others with specific design elements…while others come alive with whiskey and a cigar (or pipe). This is that room. It’s as if this room was carved out of a solid block of wood; fine, bold, rich, sturdy construction, elegant accoutrements, and a supple leather sofa add up to a high degree of refinement. With books galore and subtle, understated (but sufficient) lighting, this room is perfect for reading, smoking, or taking a nip out of the old tumbler. This is most certainly a book lover’s room. Let the daydreams commence.
This is intended to be a tale of growth, understanding, and redemption…below is just a snippet. Check it out if you’d like. Best of days to all.
I wasn’t worth a damn on paper. In the paper world, the document world, the world of resumes and economic status, I was fucking worthless. Bullshit administrative work here, run of the mill labor there, hum drum office experience way over there…hell, my resume was less than toilet paper. Looking at that bad boy made me question everything. Is this what it had come to? Is this what all the years of busting my ass have amounted to? Jack shit? I may as well have been anonymous. Just another warm body to feed the greedy corporate carnivores. A chalkboard whose teachings had long since been scrubbed clean.
But clean slates can still educate, right? They can still learn. Clean slates still hold value, however anonymous they are…they can still speak of success. I had to remind myself of that. But I was never successful at anything. Well, failing…I was very good at that. I was successful at failing. Hell, at fucking shit up, I was a professional. The best. I could turn a nugget of gold into a fistful of shit at the drop of a dime. All in a day’s work.
Freshness. In a word, this week’s space conjures up the word ‘freshness’. Maybe it’s the cool richness of the hardwood floor, or the warm natural light flushing in from the large windows. Either way, it is fresh, ambitious, creative, and far from ordinary. Books stacked all the way to a tiled ceiling, accompanied by comfy little bed. The perfect combination. If only the words in those books would visit the sleeper each night…what wonderful dreams they’d create. This is most certainly a book lover’s room. Let the daydreams commence.
One. Thousand. Posts. A thousand posts. That’s quite a lot of random musings amassed over the course of eight years, and I have to say, it’s been a long, challenging, exciting, tiring, but ultimately satisfying ride. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about (and damn near highly considered) quitting this blog. On many a day, it has seemed like a complete waste of time…but in the end, the passion to communicate and the deep drive to create and express wins out.
I consider myself a writer, and Writers Write. I don’t believe that a writer should write for likes and follows. I believe that a writer should write what’s written on the inside. Sounds cheesy and cliche, but it’s true. We all have a message or messages within us, just waiting to see the light of day; we all have a voice waiting to be spoken in whatever medium gives it life. Convey it, whatever it may be.
No preachy preaching from me, though…just write. You can’t reach everyone….so just be true to yourself and create. Cast your net out there…it doesn’t matter how big it is. If you can snag a few fish, then smile. If you don’t, keep going and smile anyway. Do your thing, stick with it, be consistent, and give your voice a stage.And most importantly, many, many thanks to those that have taken part in the journey! Your support is priceless, and I thank you.