I really enjoy writing, and I suck at it. I hate most of what I have written. I hate what I’m working on at the moment and I hate the stuff I haven’t even written yet. Actually, what I really hate is that nothing I write is as good as I think it should be, and the icing on that shit-cake is that I don’t know how to fix it.
But I’m not going to stop. Because I know the only way I can get better is to write, write, write, write, and then write some more.
I’ve realised something. I’ve been too nice. I want people to read my blog, so I hold it all in and don’t end up writing the things I want to write. That sux. It’s not good for me or for you.
I have some stories on the way. I don’t expect anyone to like them, but I can’t go on hiding out of fear that people are going to think I’m some sick weirdo and unfollow me if I publish the stories I want to write. Fear may be merely a product of the mind, but publishing stuff is fucking scary! People read, make assumptions. Well, if I suck, so be it. I need to stop letting fear hold me back. I need to grow.
Writing this has made my cry a little. So sue me.
A big thank-you to everyone who has read, like or commented on my work. You are gold. No-one likes preaching to an empty church.
Kei hea taku kairau?
Kei hea taku wahine kaikairau?
E Hika e! Te pukuriri hoki o tēnā wahine.
Ehara, ehara. Kei te pukuriri ia.
Mei kore ake te taniwha kākāriki nui.
Me haere atu ia ka tika.
Me haere atu ia ka tika.
Someone may draw a detailed picture of a human face and be considered a great artist. Or, they might draw a detailed picture of human genitalia and be considered a menace to society.
A cat gets stoned, rolling on a catnip plant: “awww – isn’t that cute!”
A woman gets stoned, smoking a marijuana plant: “Lock her up!”
When I say “I am proud to be gay!” I will be cheered and called a hero.
When I say “I am proud to be straight” I will be jeered and called a homophobe. I shall be required to paint rainbows as penance.
When I shout in the street “I am proud to be black”, I am a civil-rights campaigner. But If I were “proud to be white” I would be given a white-robe and a matching hood.
But, can’t we just get along?
Should I say “I am proud to be a woman”, I am tagged as liberated, empowered. Hear me roar! I’ll have my own TV show.
But should I say “I am proud to be a man”, then I am a misogynist, a woman-beater and surely a rapist.
Imagine: The journey of a lifetime. Finally, you have arrived. All those months of working weekends and saving pennies have paid off. You’ve even taken the time to learn some of the language, and now you’re really here! – Walking through the country of your dreams for the first time. Everything is so new, so fresh, so vibrant. Every sound, sight, and smell a new wonder to behold. Even the sunlight feels exotic. Approaching a stranger, you manage, albeit a little hestitantly, in the local lingo, to ask “Excuse me, which way to the town-square?”. To which they reply with barely-disguised contempt “Google is your friend” before hurrying away.
Back in reality, I was once wondering who was playing Pedal-Steel on Clapton’s “Tears in Heaven” (It’s Jay Dee Maness). Google didn’t pony-up immediately, so I asked the question on an Internet forum. The first response? “Google is your friend!”
Seems to be the de-facto answer in this decade, and I’m sure most of us have heard it (or used it) recently. Well, I have several problems with this reply:
1) The implication is that I’m either too lazy, too retarded, or both to try Google first.
2) No attempt has been made to answer the question. So why bother replying, unless you just like to think you sound clever? asshole!
3) Yes, just about anything trivial can be answered by all-seeing, all-knowing Google. But asking in a forum is an invitation for conversation between human beings. Why piss on that?
So to all you smug “Google is your friend” bastards …
Fuck you, and the horses you rode in on, you self-righteous, arrogant pricks!