New Years

Spent new years ignoring the distance that has grown between my family and I. We went next door to the Culp's house to meet some friends from back east. I drank to much rum and made a fool out of myself.

I did read a good book since my last post, Ballad and Lament by Stiefvater. Lately I have been feeling myself drawn to writing a book like those. I literally wake up in the middle of the night, knee deep in a riveting dream plot but I am afraid I am just one of the masses, no one who will ever make it enough to make a living.

The burden of being that "Creative, crazy, artsy" one is that you are forever searching for that high you get, that bright sunrise, that song that curls your toes, that painting that makes you sigh. We are bound to forever searching for that next best inspiration, that next best "me." Will we ever be satisfied?

Still havent found a job. I think my New Years resolution is going to be to just write. Write even though I suck. Write even to no avail.