Why I’m Back

It’s nice to write again. Before, I wasn’t really writing with a purpose. I was doing it because I needed an outlet, and partly due to ego. And to improve my writing.

Nowadays I write because I want to inspire people the way I was inspired by others. I realized that I live a pretty weird lifestyle, but I love it. And lots of people tell me they wish they could be like me. Without others’ sites like Zen Habits, Gwen Bell, Brad P., etc. I wouldn’t have been inspired enough to take action. So I’m trying to improve the world by providing another resource for people to reach whatever goals they want.

I still have personal barriers about what I should share to, essentially, the world. Writing on my blog is one way of conquering that fear. Like I wrote a few posts back about how my dad used to beat me. It wasn’t easy to admit that to the world. But I would have had no problems telling someone face-to-face.

Of course, talking to someone means having to deal with the repercussions immediately. If I told you I masturbated while fantasizing about you, you’d probably react oddly. Perhaps with repulsion. But on the internet, I can click “Publish” and immediately walk away and watch bum fights.

I like asking people, “Why do you live?” To me the question is something that jolts people out of their everyday habits. I don’t want to wake up one day, 80 years old, and realize that I’ll be dying any day now and I hate my wife, I hated every day of my job, I’ve never had the balls to try for art because it was “gay” but now that I’m about to die, does it really matter if people think I’m gay?

So that’s why I ask people that question. I want them to consider the direction their life is heading, if they haven’t already. It’ll be something they consider eventually, if someone close to them dies, or if they get sick, or mid-life crisis hits. It’s better to consider early on rather than on their death bed.

Another example is if a person is in a shit job that they hate and they’re just doing it for one more year, to become partner, then, then life will finally be good. And then they get hit by a bus. In conclusion, that person lived a shit life.

That’s what I’m most afraid of. Not of it happening to me, because I won’t let it. But I fear for the people who are under the delusion of “tomorrow, tomorrow will be when things turn better” and never realizing how they’ve wasted the gift of life.