I plan to release chapters weekly this time.
The forthcoming subject matter will involve my same trusted brand of controversy you’ve come to expect.
I may be very critical at times, down right disparaging even, of people and institutions you trust and love.
You may find yourself thinking, who does he think he is and what gives him the right. And you’ll be right. In fact, I’m much worse than you could ever imagine.
So before I get into what I think is wrong with the world and how I would change it if I could, allow me to first acknowledge what’s wrong with me.
I’ve been arrogant and selfish. Jealous narcissistic and self righteous. I’ve lied. I’ve done drugs and womanized.
I’ve been inconsistent and hypocritical. I’ve been creepy and awkward. I’ve been lazy. I’m argumentative when I know I’m wrong.
I’ve been cold hearted. I let relationships die I wanted to keep alive. My own sense of self importance meant more. I’m too self involved. I’ve been like this while neglecting family members that are no longer here.
I’ve skimmed headlines and tweeted about them like I’ve read the whole article. I’ve been shortsighted and problematic, chauvinistic and xenophobic.
I’ll put my needs in front of yours. I act like it’s everyone else’s fault. It’s never anyone else’s fault. It’s always my own.
I spend too much money on shit I don’t need then blame capitalism for what’s wrong in the world. But it’s me who’s created the problems I see.
I push people away then blame them for leaving.
I let emotions dictate my decisions. What’s worse is I claim to be rational.
I act like a pimp when I’m a hopeless romantic. I objectify women.
I should read more books and watch less tv. I eat too much meat. I don’t workout enough. I resent the women in my life for being perfect.
I romanticize the idea of being an artist when I’d rather be scrolling instagram watching Netflix.
My friend gave me his Netflix. I gave it to too many people. So now it kicks me out sometimes, which means it kicks him out. He was nice enough to give it to me and now he can’t even use his own subscription. He just had a newborn and needs the money more than me.
I take more than I give. Then I complain it’s not enough.
I’m manipulative. I think I’m better and smarter than everyone.
Even now. I’m trying to outsmart you. I’m only saying these bad things so no one else can use them against me later.
I’m sociopathic. I’m condescending.
I know you already know this. You love me anyway. I know because you’ve read this far.
I let people I love down.
I let my past control my future when I should’ve stayed present.
I wasn’t strong enough to overcome the things I went through and it’s no excuse.
I’ve built this fortress of solitude then pretend to be abandoned.
None of this is lost on me. I carry it. I wish I could go back and make things right. I wish I could move forward and make things right.
But I can’t. I can’t do anything really. I claim to be brave when I’m paralyzed by fear.
I claim liberty or death when I’m as hopelessly enslaved and those who falsely believe they’re free.
You made it this far so I don’t have to tell you; I’m self deprecating and long-winded.
You expecting more of me was a compliment, but I took it as an offense. I couldn’t understand. I know it’s my fault.
All I do is talk about how things should change, but I don’t do anything to bring about that change.
I’m too lazy. Even God is irritated. He’s impatient. He keeps telling me to get to work.
I don’t listen.
God split the Red Sea for Moses. He locked the world down for me, and left me in a room with a laptop for 18 months.
By now God is screaming at me. Write Goddamnit! Write right now!
There’s only one way to shut him up. It’s the only one thing that seems pacify his rage. I have to write.
As above so below. Change yourself to change the world, God says to me.
Writing is the only chance I have at accomplishing that, or both simultaneously.
The only way I know how to make things right is to write. I guess that’s why they call it that.
So I come to you all now, acknowledging the wrong I’ve done. I’m well aware of my shortcomings. I know you are too.
I fell victim to the same system that’s driving us all mad. So I hope you can try to understand what made me this way.
Forgive me for what I’ve done, and for what I’m about to write.
New Chapter weekly. Starting now.