today and we worked out our differences.
a while back i had written her an email which she said hurt her.
one that i had no intention of hurting her.
“well you did hurt me, and it hurt.” she said.
i always forget that i have a way with words. sometimes i have a bad way with words. i always forget that people look at my words much differently than i do.
i think im a bettern average writer, certainly not great, but lots of people feel like i have thrown lightening bolts at them when im riled up.
maybe some of you have the same self-esteem issues that i have about your writing. but the truth is i have a very hard time looking at it once its done.
i am trying to put together Blook II for your asses and its almost impossible.
not only is my computer set up at home so bad that its nearly crippling, but the misery of having to look back at all the crappy boring dullardly bullshitty bullshit that i type during my 15 minute work breaks in search of enough material for a 150 page book is definately not on my short list of things to do when i come home after a hard day in the helicopter.
but i made a promise to hit two home runs in the world series to a sick little boy named chokey and i fucking hate that.
murphys law, if i promise i will do something that takes even the slightest bit of effort i wont do it.
remember that How To Vote video that you all loved so? david asked me to write “anything” about voting, i said, sure i’ll have something by tomorrow. took me a week to get around to that.
what sort of fool am i.
i love writing. i love blogging. i love reading your blog, but i cant really read my own. its nuts.
maybe its because i know how these stories will end. maybe its because some of whats in here is true and truth sucks. maybe its because i look at these words and i dont see the talent that some of you see and when i get my confidence up enough to actually sit infront of businesses and websites and present my writing and my ideas to them they balk. every time.
ive pitched a blog for three web sites over these last two weeks. nobody said, tony we love your writing, we’ll take you as a writer, but we cant do a blog just yet. all they say is no.
which is good. its fine. i go back to the blog and type and expect nobody to fawn over me. i go back to outlook and write people emails like anna and dont think anything will happen.
and then i find out that when i write things it moves people in positive ways, and i find out certain things hurt others and i feel like the black guy in full metal jacket who cant even get pussy off the ho cuz hes too beaucoup,
and hes got to unzip to, for the first time in his life probably, prove that his magnificent specimen is pure alabama black snake but it ain’t too gd beaucoup.
danielle called me today from her beachside paradise of san diego telling me that she misses me and wants me to come down to see her and i said what if i mailed my camera down there and she said why dont you just rent a car and we can go to la fonda in baja mexico and i didnt say yes.
cuz im dumb.
which is why i think my words have no power
for if they did anna kournikova wouldnt be waiting tonight for enrique to come home from the go go
shed be waiting for tony to come home from the speckled streets of hollywood.