We are all afraid, we can ignore each other, or we can ignore fear, make a choice to ignore fear, and life is good, or get drunk on your fears.
Writing is the art of manipulating people, playing with people heads hopefully making them better people. Writers who refuse to admit they desire to play with peoples heads are poor writers, saying to their audience, “Read this, enjoy it if you want, but please do not be offended. I want you to like me, do not change.”
I could just hear Ernest Hemingway ranting, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” - Ernest Hemingway
Recently, I had a flashback to 27 years ago. For one day I relieved my life 27 years ago, when there was no reason to live. I had used alcohol as way to stop feeling.
A couple of weeks ago, I spent 8 hours getting emotionally tortured in the Fort Lauderdale, Broward Country, Florida jail. I was arrested for a warrant issued 34 years ago in 1980. Go figure! I was not carrying my identification.
I do not feel the least bit guilty, but I do feel ashamed of my country for allowing this to happen. Yes, I am a recovering alcoholic, with a solution to insanity . . .
And do not get self-righteous here. Most of you are brain-dead. You walk with a face of stone, always in control, as if stopping smiles is your goal. Being quick to smile is a goal, looking the other way, avoiding people is fear. An emotional dead-end street.
You do not know the name of your neighbor. You refuse to say hello to the person in the next cubicle. You get on Facebook, and like, and like. When it gets too personal, you run.
You are willing to torture others with anger, rants, and your screams of rage. Yet, you cannot say hello to people you know, or even halfway to strangers smiling at you.
I see you when I walk into the room; your silence is screaming at me. You are ignoring me. This is great, your fear could be contagious, it is toxic; I cannot change you.
I am grateful today to be clean and sober. Today, I am not ignoring the people in my life; I am ignoring the fears in my life.
Thanks for letting me screw with your head; maybe we can get it screwed on right one day.
Andy Lee Graham
El Amigo, Hotel
February 6, 2015
The boogey men are not going to come get me . . .