Shy or weird?

12:28am, lying in bed, Chandler, Arizona, Tuesday night/Wednesday morning, first day of December. Questions: Do I not put myself out there enough or is my worldview non-accessible? Am I strange or a hack? Am I shy or weird? Does what I say not appeal to a large audience or I am not trying/succeeding in reaching people? Do I suck? Do I have integrity or am I bizarre? What is synonym for esoteric? But not esoteric on purpose. Inadvertently esoteric?

Post purpose

8:29am, in my office, Phoenix Arizona, Tuesday morning. We have a meeting at work every other Tuesday at 9am. On those days the 8:15 morning call is canceled. I have a little more free time than usual on this morning, which is why I am posting now. My approach to writing recently has been to chronicle activities. I realize I don’t care so much for insight as much as I want to know what I was doing on a particular day. I want to recall where I was, who I interacted with how it made me feel. I want to use this space to remember time and place.

Audience

9:16am Friday. There needs to be an audience or the best writing in the world doesn’t exist. For the past couple of months I have not put much effort into these posts because I was writing word documents. But they weren’t going anywhere because there is no interaction. I get no feedback. I am going to start putting my effort into the blog again. This is my only connective outlet to the world

Two energies

8:17am Arizona, office. I have two energies, spiritual and monetary. Both are valid but spiritual is the dominant energy. For the past 12 years I have honored the less dominant energy, the monetary. I wanted to do it, to try something different, but I am tired. it is time to go back to spiritual. I found my hard copy of The Unaffiliated book I wrote nine years ago. I am going to go through it and see what I can do with it.

Arrogance

8:52am Monday morning. How arrogant is it to be a “writer?” To say I can put words on a page in such a way that you will be impressed enough to pay me money? When I am at my default setting I write but what does that mean? It is a magnificent struggle to get just get started writing. And it is even more of a haul to produce something decent. The high of creating quickly abates. There is no real long term benefit for being a “writer.”

Friday night

7:33pm Friday night sept 17, 21. Immediately the events transpired. I finished a phone call then left for a meeting across town. When I arrived no one seemed particularly concerned with the growing mob outside. To them the novel display was intriguing, not annoying. But I was sick with worry. What if my wife found out, what then? A million scenarios raced through my mind. None of them involved a simple resolution.