Perhaps too far gone on the influence of Stolichnaya. Â Perhaps a year or two of pent up “literary aggression”. Â Perhaps too drawn to music to avoid the pun of 2pac’s Confessions as a Rider…
The year is 2000. Â I am in English class at a high school in an affluent neighborhood. Â I am assigned a list of vocabulary words and am told to use them in a sentence. Â I do so, but one up the challenge and create a story series about a fictional family in my weekly vocabulary exams. Â The year is 2001. Â My friend’s kid sister tells me my English teacher, one Ms. Elizabeth Waller, has raved about my vocabulary stories to the class below me. Â I feel suddenly validated as a writer. Â Thank you, Ms. Waller.
The year is 2009. Â I am in the habit of complaining about my job. Â A friend tells me how he truly laughed out loud at my “status messages” regarding micromanagement and general office antics. Â I am once again validated in my wit and literary skill. Â A year earlier I had resolved to write a book, but at this point I forget the premise. Â It matters not.
The year is still 2009, sadly. Â Every Friday I wake up at the buttcrack of dawn to meet with a group of men to further our understanding of the world. Â I imagine us as the freemasons, or better yet, the beginning of some powerhouse think-tank with the power to make the freemasons feel as if their liberties are completely taken away. Â We are in charge now.
You can call it pride, arrogance, or even naivety… but my mission is to change the world. Â I will do it with my story and I will affect one character at a time. Â i’m starting with the character of you. Â Your story is now blended with mine and we’re setting out on a journey.
One day we may look back and see this as a defining point in our lives where we crossed over from boring to awesome. Â May, but probably won’t. Â It’s closer to the truth to say that perhaps you will speak in to my life and I will attempt to somehow move you in the way you think. Â And in that movement of poking, proding, irritating, and infecting that somehow you would see that there is a greater purpose to all that is here that we claim to live for.
I will write. Â You will read. Â And together, we will be set free.