i've come to realize, albeit without remorse, that i have lost some freedom to write whatever i desire for fear of certain emotional vulnerabilities. this is a loss of anonymity and an alter-ego that was originally known to only a select few. in recent weeks i have written many pages of words (on the backs of novels and napkins and such) which will never end up here due to this realization, despite the pride i take in their sincerity and their (supposed) poeticness. the awareness of all this came in the basement of limieght after receiving a text message about the death of a friend overseas, in december, but unknown to me until that night. i wanted to express so many things but did not know how. i started this project at a point in my life which harboured much security and stability. this time has now passed, and although i have grown accustom and found inspiration in this new and unanchored chapter i have become aware of how my words may be received and reflected back upon myself in day to day life. i love skateboarding, and find therapy in the simplicity of skating down an empty street, but i can assure you your grandmother can skate with more skill then me, and all my favorite authors and silver screen heroes have died due to heartache, alcoholism, and car accidents which reflects poorly on my taste in father figures and whatever. my writing process is fairly simple, too many cigarettes, too many beers in the faint hours of early morning (which seemed to lack reality and structure), with an old war movie on mute of course, currently bridge on the river kwai. alec guinness walks with a limp which reflects mine during those absurdly cold january mornings, attributed to a certain motorcycle that i lack courage to ride again (another metaphor perhaps). only about twenty five percent of these writings make it on here, and unfortunately they tend to be the weaker of the bunch. i fear making the same mistakes in terms of my choice in women, i fear my lack of confidence in myself and who i am, and i fear an unknown future which once belonged to a military life, then to a girl, and now to nothing. nevertheless i will not stop writing if you continue to read, but from this point on these words are fiction and not fact, and never think otherwise.
