Who Am I?

Lately, I have been asking myself that infinite question.

“Who Am I?”

Maybe its because I am getting older?

Or…

Maybe it is because I think? I may have figured it out. (At least a little bit.)

I have spent the last 30 years of my life discovering who I am NOT.

And since we live in society where so much of what we do defines who we are…I am going to start with a small piece of my employment history and some of my personal background. I have learned that I am not simply an incest survivor. I have learned that I am not a crack head, or a drunk. (Yes, that was a full time job in my past.) I have learned that I am not stripper or a bartender. I have learned that I was not built for the world of retail, or sales. I am definitely not cut out for the confines of an office. Nor am I willing to blend into the landscape of corporate America, filled with monotonous boredom. To me, that is exactly like being trapped inside of a cage. The only way I can manage to perpetuate that lifestyle is by ingesting large quantities of pharmaceutical drugs, all of which have been manufactured for the sole purpose to keep “us” producing.

And I am done with it.

All Of It.

The one constant in my life (since I was 9 years old) has been writing.

I write because I want to write. And I write because I have to write.

I have written some pretty damn good things (pats self on back) along with writing mountains of crap. I guess I am still finding my voice as a writer and as a blogger. I have never really tried to tap so deeply into this part of my being until recently. I mean, yes, I have always always always written…but, I have never written for an ‘audience’. This blog has been more of a learning experience in that department than I can ever begin to express.

I have learned that I may never be a true story-teller like her (Selma) or a genuine poet like her (paisley) and her (Jodi). I may never be able to maintain the perfect balance of wit and humor like her (KellyPea) or him (Michael C). And I will certainly never reach the level of snarkiness as her (Bossy) or her (Momo Fali’s) or her (Jillian). I know I will never be able to write as professionally as her (Leslie). I will never be able to dominate the world like this guy (Greg). And I really MISS the hell out of reading brilliant posts one after the other and sharing the gift for writing from this vanished blogger (Claire). Just To Name A Few.

I may not have an extensive vocabulary, and I may not have the slightest clue when it comes to the ever-so-changing rules grammar. I will also admit to being the world’s worst speller that ever walked the face of the planet.

But, since we live in society where so much of what we do defines who we are.

I know who I am today. Because that is what I do.

I am a writer.

I write because I want to write. And I write because I have to write.

Since I was Nine Years Old.

But in order for me to become the writer I want/long/need/have to be, I am boldly going to “Ask The Universe” (something I have never done before) to present me with a series of miracles and to please open up some huge bay sized windows of opportunities.

I want/need/long to have the chance and the time and even the financial means required to develop my skills as a writer.

I want/need/long to have the chance and the time and even the financial means to gain a firmer grasp of English language.

I want/need/long to have the chance and the time and even the financial means to expand my command of the written word.

I am “Asking The Universe” for the remote possibility, the chance, the time and even the financial means to follow the path I know I belong to.

So Universe.

If you are listening?

I know who I am. I know what I want to be.

Any assistance would be greatly appreciated.