Nothing but a Forgotten Dream

I stumbled across something very interesting the other day—well, I had somewhat of a desire to search for it, and so I guess it was more intentional than coincidental. But, that’s just all mindless details.

When I was 18, my arrogance for my own writing abilities far exceeded its true potential. I’m not very confident about how or what I write anymore (and rightly so, though this humble realization came with many painful awakenings), but at the time, I thought my writing could conquer the world. Actually, I was confident it would.

And so, at 18, I attempted to write my first novel. Well, started I should say, or tried to start. The idea came after my grandfather died, a rather remarkable man whose story was never shared, a story I barely knew myself. And so, a seed was planted in my mind, which soon grew to a young idea, and eventually into a sturdy beginning to a novel that I was certain would become a classic. (Arrogant, I know.)

Well, ladies and gentlemen, I found it. I found the first and last chapters to this “award-winning” novel that I began when my life was just beginning. And although I must admit that my writing has improved in many ways since I was a child, (as apparent from the first posts on this blogs, and silly poems such as this one that I wrote as a kid), I must say that I was rather impressed with what I had to say. In fact, I was actually inspired…inspired to finish telling this untold and startling story.

I will admit that no one has yet to read it, and so, my satisfaction and motivation to pursue it, may actually be nothing but blindness and ignorance towards its stupidity. I’d share it with all of you on this blog (since it’s really not that much), or even explain the plot line (though it is rather undeveloped), but with my luck, some aspiring writer out there will find a publisher, expand on my “brilliant” idea, write a book, and show up on the New York Times Bestselling list, leaving me with nothing but this blog.

If you’re really that interested though, maybe I’ll tell you, someday—maybe. Probably not; depends who you are. But, if any publishers out there would like to take a 21 year-old’s 18 year old self’s story idea and make it into a real book, you know where to find me…or find my blog at least. I would definitely love to show it to you, as undeveloped as it may be.

But anyways, why am I telling you all of this? Because somewhere along the road of enlightenment I discovered a broken dream I forgot about long ago. And though that aspiration is now nothing more than a memory, I must say that rediscovering the first steps you made long ago remind you of how you got to where you are. Besides, I like re-reading things I've written, even if it is cringing and unbearable. It shows how much your writing has matured, how much you have grown, and how much life has changed.

And even if I never finish writing that book, or whatever it would've turned out to be, I'm glad it's no longer a forgotten dream, but rather an old dream replaced by different ones.

Fishy Business

I have a friend who occasionally likes to call me a "shark" because of the blunt, yet truthful, comments I tend to make. Well, if I am a shark, then that would explain why I can smell fish around me when they screw up...

And today, I smell something fishy.

So, please allow the blunt shark to give you "sneaky" individuals some sound advice so that your fishy smell can sneak off my radar:

1. Learn how to swim...correctly: If you're going to lie to me, or to anyone else for that matter, at least lie right. When you get caught up in your own net of lies, well, lets just say you're not the fastest fish in the sea.
2. Don't fall for the fish bait: There aren't just sharks in the sea, there are fishermen too. So, beware the traps that people set up for you, because when you're too dumb to realize that you've just been caught, you're pretty much dead meat...or dead seafood. That's how my dad caught these. Well, the fishermen caught them; I think he just watched and attempted to help. (Don't tell him I said that.)
3. "Fish are friends, not food:" Unless, of course, your friends rat you out. Then they might as well be food to all the other sharks out there.
4. SWERVE!: Stuck in a pickle? Or in this case, an oyster....? Own up to it and admit your mistake.

Now, there's a very logical way for all you fish to avoid being eaten alive or served on a platter at Red Lobster instead of following these not so helpful tips: BE TRUTHFUL from the very beginning. There's no reason for fishy business if you tell the truth from the start. I promise, it's not that hard, and a lot less painful for everyone. And why would you want to be a fish when you can be a person? Just saying.

Stop trying to swim a fast one on everyone for such stupid reasons. I mean, hey, if you can avoid being a fish, then there's no reason to release the sharks.

The Sinful Art of Criticism; The Blessed Chance to Critique

Criticism is good for the soul. I have and will always support this theory. How, may I ask, do you ever wish to improve yourself, your situation, or your expenditures without seeking advice or the opinions of others? It takes a prideful fool to condemn the advice and opinions of his peers, and therefore, I urge us all (including myself) to embrace constructive criticism for all the glorious and positive influence it may have.

But often times, people take things a little too far. Sometimes we must beware the sinful art of criticism and remember that giving your opinion is merely a blessed chance to critique. Contradictory? Well, please indulge me a little and allow me to explain.

Some of you may already be associating this post to my previous one on this blog, and though they are somewhat unconnected, I must say that the reactions and events that have occurred within the past few weeks, related and unrelated to Mr. Crook and my cousin, have driven me to discuss the matter at hand. In fact, people's reactions to what Mr. Crook had to say with such crude language disgusted me as much as Mr. Crook himself. I understand that I too could not hold in my frustration towards such an insecure and ignorant man...but I would never bring myself down to his level through childish means. Much has changed in the past month, and the more my eyes are opened and my ears widened to see how people critique and hear the diction they choose, the more I find propriety and common courtesy breached in inappropriate manners when expressing opinions. I, in no way, am wise enough to offer sound advice on how to criticize. However, my conscience does feel obliged to warn the few interested enough to listen.

Criticism, in many ways, is a blessed privilege, a great opportunity, and an inspiring process to agree or disagree with a friend or stranger, both personally or professionally. In my opinion, there are only a few ways to abuse this blessing and transform it into a sinful art: blatantly disregarding human emotions, speaking from ignorance and immaturity, and using foul language as an act of anger and frustration. Diction seems to be my prime concern, as I've grown to loathe people who abuse the English language with distasteful, foul four letter words, and degrade their opinions to nothing more than an emotional, uneducated rant.

Throughout my 21 years of observation, I've sadly found that this applies to my friends, my acquaintances, my critics, and occasionally even myself. And though I never encourage anyone to act or speak merely out of emotion, here is my small angry rant: cursing to make your voice heard is self-destructive. To those of you who cursed Michael Crook, to those of you who curse each other, to those of you who use f***, b****, sh** and other distasteful slang words to express yourself and your opinions, I ask you to reconsider your word choices. Life is not defined by these words, but rather, your opinions and your voice will be defined to a status unworthy of listening to.

Now, I completely understand that discussing such a sensitive topic instantly puts me in the line of fire for people to criticize me--and if grasping the opportunity to form a few minds forces other minds to condemn mine, than so be it. All I ask is that you do so without cussing up a storm, because although I may be able to navigate through troubled waters, you'll only be proving my point.