Monday August 22 2005 Contaminated

Résumé
Razors pain you;

Rivers are damp;

Acids stain you;

And drugs cause cramp.

Guns aren't lawful;

Nooses give;

Gas smell awful;

You might as well live.
Dorothy Parker

Most writers are contaminated. Or is that condemned? Maybe it is the same thing. We are contaminated by strange neurons and electrons connecting in weird and disturbing ways in our brains. We are condemned forever to try and create order even if it is ugly out of those thoughts and ideas creating visions and delusions that must be exorcised before we go totally mad. What we know and what we see is often different than what the outside world perceives and thus we must educate them to the nuances of pain, ecstasy, and reveal that there is more than mediocrity.





Even the charmingly trite who keep their words light know that the dark dwells beneath the conscious mind. Even my buddies Tweetie and Sylvester make us laugh at pain and the constant conflict and confusion of our society. We pander to the quirks and smirks of mankind and we often sit back and observe our own stupidity for even trying.





A writer without a pen as sharp as a razor might as well become a journalist or a copy writer. But, we who look into the abyss always knowing it will return our glance know that madness is but one stroke away on the keyboard. We are fierce, mad and defiant. We are the ultimate egotist because we believe that someone somewhere will be intrigued by what we write and value what our thoughts reveal. For some of us this might become a reality, for others not. But all of us will continue the valiant war of the words in an attempt to birth our thoughts into form that might someday say to the world: See, I told you so… I am a writer.