Writing Goals & Pants Holes

I haven’t blogged here much in the last two years. At first it was because I had a job that drained me plus I had found other outlets where I could make money. I’m still primarily writing elsewhere about sports (people love sports) and seeing some success. I’m not satisfied though as writing is still only a fraction of my “career.”

Unfortunately it’s a tough industry. More and more people are learning English plus women who know how to write are no longer tossed into rivers to see if they can float. This immediately doubles my competition, which I’ll have to accept.

A large part of me still does enjoy writing on humorous topics. It’s tough for me to get rid of completely because I don’t take much seriously. I add my jabs and sarcasm in as necessary when writing about sports yet it’s still limited at times and when I try doing it sometimes feels forced. So I may be writing here a little bit more now that fantasy baseball season is over. Probably, my train rides home will include a little bit more writing about my life or how much everybody else is a silly person.

Ultimately, my writing goals include nothing specific. I just want to be able to say something, be heard, and then have someone hand me enough money to pay my rent, buy food, and have a little extra left for pants whenever they rip in the crotch. Or maybe that last one is society’s fault and they should just learn to accept seeing more flesh than they’re used to.

(These aren’t my work pants, but just so you know, all 3 of my pants I have for work have giant holes in the crotch and I have no idea what to do about it other than lose shame)

Writing about your life isn’t exactly lucrative though unless you’re already successful at something else or killed someone. Nobody is interested in the autobiography about a person who thinks their life was interesting if the only thing interesting about it was that they wrote about it. We’re not as special as we think we are and as I’m looking at Kurt Cobain autopsy photos knowing he’s younger dead than I am currently alive, it’s humbling to know how insignificant I am.

I’d love to write a little more openly. An opportunity to entertain more than inform would be dazzling! Where I’m at in life, people only want facts from me instead of opinion. I’m also tiring of editing which is why you will certainly continue to find many typos on this blog. Between writing, eating, and making sure my blinds are drawn so my neighbors can “accidentally” get a glimpse as I change in the morning, re-reading anything I write falls to the side. I can’t imagine how painful it is for you to read it once when I’m incapable of even passing my eyes along it as I type.

All of the articles I see online about getting paid to write online are outdated and reiterate the same information. The days of content farms are over. Your best bet is joining an already established site where you can break off on your own blog or killing someone. I don’t own a gun and I’m too short to clobber someone in the head without them seeing it from a mile away. I’ll just keep doing what I’m doing instead and hope someone just gives me a winning lottery ticket.