Blogs are for pretentious douchebags.

Alright. First post, what to say.....

I like writing. A lot. I don't consider myself very good at it, particularly, but I find it uniquely therapeutic. I also have a lot of free time on my hands to ponder the absurdities of life. This can be positive or negative, depending on the situation. My love of writing has got me into trouble numerous times before - usually because I end up sending messages to friends/girlfriends with way more information than I should ever share with anyone, and end up pissing them off with my honesty and candor (or what I see to be honesty at the time, which upon further examination was really just the way I felt for a fleeting moment, before jumping back to reality and realizing I misspoke in the worst way imaginable). Come to think of it, this is probably going to end up being yet another outlet for me to stick my foot in my mouth. Oh well, it is what it is. 

Writing is one of the few talents that I have actually honed somewhat throughout the years, unlike my drawing/sketching abilities, which seem to get worse every time I put pen to paper. Maybe it's because as I get older my vocabulary is expanding organically. There really isn't an equivalent of that in the art world. I mean, I can't simply look at art all day and expect to be a better artist. I can, however, read a shit ton at work instead of actually accomplishing work-related tasks, and expose myself to a lot of varied writing styles in my daily web-surfing. Actually, that's a poor example, because using that logic, I should be able to go to art galleries or look at comics and expose myself to different artists. Just look at me, contradicting myself already and I'm only 300 words in. Yikes. Whatever the reason, I know I could break out the 'ol sketchbook and sharpie, or colored-pencils, or even boot up photoshop, and create a reasonable looking facsimile of that fruit bowl in the corner. I mean, I did go to art school. I have been drawing ever since I could hold a pencil. I just don't have the desire to anymore. When I get bit by the creativity bug lately I tend to gravitate toward something more tangible and concrete, like building a custom shower in my house or making a poker table from scratch. I still have a lot of artist friends who regularly read comic books and go to art shows and stuff. That type of routine helps them keep their skills fresh. At this point I just feel stale, and I'm ok with it.

Wow, that got depressing quick. So much for being therapeutic. Shit. I'm just a failure and should probably go slit my wrists now. 

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, my writings. I feel like a douche just for having a blog. Just for thinking I'm cool enough to have a blog.

This may not stick. We'll see....I hope it does. I do have a lot of really interesting stories to tell.