release

On this Sagittarian Full Moon, I’ve decided to give up my two websites, my blogs, and other online distractions. I’ve spent over ten years searching online for the things that have been absent from my life, and to no avail. In fact, my mind has become completely scattered while in a constant whirl of useless information.

For my own sanity and to preserve any genuine quality to my life, these attempts at connection must be severed.

It’s been a relationship thats all give with nothing in return. My online presence is invisible, and I’m not really into having to market my stuff or myself to be noticed.

I’ll be keeping 43T and maybe Twitter. Other than that, I’m done. I’m tired of being disappointed and trying to fit into a pop culture that I’m clearly not appreciated in. Their loss.

Have also been purging my old writings and college papers. On paper after paper, the professors keep telling me how artistic, intelligent and talented my writing is, how I need to keep going. How did I not notice these comments before?

I can’t wait until this cleanout is complete.

but not necessarily easy ones. I can already tell this entire “release” goal is going to be about my search, desire, pseudo-need for security in an ever-changing world. There really is no such thing as security, or at least, not the outer type of security, like enough money or a permanent home or relationships that last forever.

My small step was to sell some of my collection of copywriting books online. No big deal, right? But as soon as I put them up on amazon.com, I started to think “Maybe I should keep this one, it might help me make money” although it never has. Sure, making millions doing copywriting seems like an easy career choice for someone who likes to write. But none of these books were about writing stuff that matters to me.

Business writing may pay thousands, but with corporate America falling into the toilet (much of it due to their own greed) why would I want to work promoting them? There are some great, helpful businesses out there but mostly I see, even in some small local businesses, is how to get more money. Making money to support yourself and your family-great. Making money so you prove your worth through your expensive possessions-not so great.

Some of the books were on freelance writing. Their view was to write for magazines and such. But looking at magazine articles lately, it’s the same old crap they churn out every year. “2 Weeks to a Better You!” “Your Child May Be In Danger!” “Sex Moves He Secretly LOVES!”

I am just not cut out to write that kind of tripe over and over. Superficial fluff that teases you into buying a magazine and afterwards you’re no smarter than you were before. And I don’t want to be responsible for the further dumbing down of this country.

So out of the 8 books I put up for sale…6 of them sold in one day. So now I have to give up my “writing for money” security blanket and ship them off. No longer will they be here on the shelf to comfort me in case I’m a miserable failure in all my other “psycho” endeavors.

I’ll always have tons of books, but I think a changing of the guard is in order. It’s time to let go of old ideologies like “Tighter Buns in 30 Days” and “Why Men Love Bitches” and embrace something more real, more me.

Maybe I should stop reading and start writing.

Not sure why now is the time for me. Maybe it’s astrological. Maybe it’s because of spring or the new moon in my sign, Taurus. Maybe, it’s just time. But there are things I’ve been clinging to for way too long out of nostalgia or sentimentality.

I’m letting go of a few things in the next few days. My dream of more college degrees is the first to go. I still love my concept of higher education, but I don’t think it exists anymore, if it ever did. For the most part, it’s just another business that really doesn’t give a damn about what it sells. I’m glad I got my Bachelors, but it wasn’t as fulfilling as I had hoped.

Also, I’m letting go of my ambiguous websites. Neither one can seem to find a solid identity. Although I love their potential, they’re not doing much for me in any way except making me feel like a flounder.

Some of my illusions are going too. I thought I could convince myself to just write anything for money. To be completely honest, I’m not a writer. I can write well, but I don’t want to crank out writing like I’m making machine parts.

I guess I’m really looking at who I am now and taking a real, hard look at what I want, what I don’t want, and shaking off the old shell that’s such a burden to haul around.

It’s not as sad as I thought it would be. Instead it’s a deep relief.