It’s about time…

it’s about time I posted for 2006
it’s about time I figured out what I want to do, focus on, manifest for 2006
it’s about time. Too much time spent doing nothing, thinking about doing something but basically not using my time wisely.
it’s about time I got back to work on my project. My art. The story I want to tell. Just 30 minutes a day. It’s really not about time. It’s about inclination, dedication, persistence, and a feeling that I do deserve to be successful. Sure I do well at my job, I have great friends and family, bla bla bla… but what is stopping me from greatness? what holds me back? why don’t I just get out there and do it?

Does blogging help or hinder? Do I really get anything out of this exercise in typewritten drivel that no one reads? Or is it just a distraction to pursuing “Reconstructing My Mother?” How easy it would be to let that go. To start something else. A short fiction piece, heck even a novel seems easier than delving into my past, my mother’s past, trying to make some sense out of it, my life, such as it was, is, will be. Maybe I can just pretend to remember. Be like James Frey, and smash my life into a Million Little Pieces and reconstruct it on paper. Will people say I lied? Does it matter? What is truth anyway? Don’t we all make up our own version of reality based on our experiences, our predjudices, our desires. Who hasn’t exagerrated for comic effect when telling a story, or for dramatic effect. Does that make the story a lie? If the story is really a sum of all the details, then does it really make a difference that one of the details is off by one or two. Is there really much difference between 10,000 and 10,097?

Haven’t read the book, so I can’t say whether the disputed details really make a difference in the overall story, or if the story is well-written, but if you read the book, and it meant something to you, touched you, moved you, opened your mind to something you didn’t understand before, then what difference does it make whether he lied or not?

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