Pshrink is a great word

I wonder if writers talk to pshrinks less than people who do not write. I could be that the jumble of thoughts spewing from a writer's brain forces him or her to see mental health professional just to shut the valve off. Writing does give you the chance to vent, regroup, and refresh. Then again, sometimes it just opens up new gaping holes in your psyche. Maybe if you write about kitties and bunnies or rainbows and unicorns this would not be such a problem. However, if you rant on about Romney or Obama it is probably because you are trying to convince yourself that you are not the crazy one for actually supporting one of them. Pretty sure it works the same way for people like Bill Mahr and the members of Westboro Baptist Church as well. Maybe you are right and everyone else is wrong. Maybe you are the smartest person in the room, the country, the world. Then again maybe you are no better than the guy you passed on the street who is talking to a six foot tall rabbit who really is not there. After all isn't that what a writer does? Aren't I just carrying on a conversation with myself right now? I am clearly not talking to anyone else because most people only read their own writing because that is all they think is important. Tweeting, Facebook and the internet have seen to that. Since I can now see my words digitally they must be important and will last forever. I think writing may indeed lead to the latter of my first two quandaries.

Fake blog post

You know its funny....ever time I heard Holden Caulfield talking about phonies I always assumed he was talking about all of those people I love to despise. You know the jokers I am talking about. The idiot that assumes his work is so important that everyone reads it. He says with mock concern that he does not want his work published in the small college's poetry book because he is worried that some  nut-job from the middle east will blow up the school because he vaguely mentions a certain prophet. By the way, in preparation for my grammar test, nut job is a noun adjunct. How's that for pretentious. Maybe that makes my point about phonies. It is not just the knucklehead that tries to read to much into someone else's writing or art work but also the idiot that points out that knucklehead would be another noun adjunct. It is a painful thing to realize that you are the phony you loathe so much. It really has nothing to do with my writing. it has everything to do with the way I live my life. That is a depressing idea. Well, it is to me anyway. It may not come as much of a shock to anyone that would happen to read this. However, I really doubt anyone reads anything I write. I do have classmates that say they like my writing because it is funny. It could just be that I am the only student that just cannot take an assignment seriously enough to put his heart into it. Maybe I just have to make everything slightly irreverent or humorous because I do not want to expose myself (reflexive pronoun)  to ridicule that would inevitably come from having people tell you that you are a hack. Yikes. I am depressing myself here. I certainly have enough pain in my past that I should be able to write something without a dull edge to it. I guess when you spend your entire adult life running from your past it is difficult to come to terms with it long enough to get anything meaningful out of it.Maybe it is just the election that brings out all of my harbored inner hatred toward moe rons (Southern expression) that fell as if theirs is the only correct opinion. Clearly, they are the only ones smart enough to see what is really going on. Funny how these are the people who only find data that further cements their idea. As soon as they find someone that agrees with them they broadcast it all over their digital lives and spout "See, I am right you are wrong","I am smart and you are dumb". Talking about pointless rambling. Does anyone remember where exactly I was going with this?

Hey, I remember you.

Writing on a tablet is nowhere near as satisfying as banging out words on a computer. Come to think of it, even that is no substitute for the clanging, ringing, whooshing pulse of a typewriter. (kids a typewriter is an ancient computer with no monitor, viruses, or internet connection) Still, there is catharsis in actually letting your thoughts escape into black and white characters. Once it comes out it can be forgotten and the writer moves on.However, on the occasional sleepness night the author may be forced to reveiw works best left alone. After all, only Marty McFly and terminators can jump back in time. So what is the point of reliving history (ancient in some authors cases). The works of Yin remain poiniant as ever. Somethings are best left in their own new realities. Everyone should be their own hero, or antihero. Sidekicks are great to have around though.