I’ve been in love. At least I know that. Lost them both, but at least I know that love is real. And I know that you can love someone with all of your heart, but that doesn’t mean you can live with them.
But I’ve never known success. Not real success. Nothing lasting.
Things worked my way a few times, but…it lead to nothing, ultimately.
I would really like to know the taste of success at least once in this life of mine.
Success being…to capture the thing I’ve always wanted. To be published. To make a good living as a writer. To sell my work, then be asked if I had anything more to sell.
Finding my consort would be great, too. A life partner. A friend I can sleep with. That too seems an impossibility. Not sure why. Guess it’s me.
Still haven’t made any friends at Daily Kos, but I know that takes time. It is what it is. It’s a good site, but there is a clannishness about some of the members and I haven’t got the time or the will to kiss their asses and get on their good side.
I’ll be me. I rock. They’ll see that eventually.
Pretty much every day I visit the site I cross paths with a new Liberal Stinker, or some dimwit who didn’t bother to read my comment closely, misinterpreted what I said, then chose to berate me.
It is what it is. I’ll just ignore most of those little fuckers, unless I’m drunk and spoiling for a fight, and one of them makes a wrong move. Then I’ll draw blood.
But all of that’s…not very relevant right now.
I need to get published. I need to find an agent. I need to market my work, and I’ll be damned if I know where to begin.
After all these years I finally have several marketable works, but I’m too brain dead to bait the hook and throw my line into the water. Been adrift at sea for too long.