Writer's Block

Its 4:38 AM on a Friday night/Saturday morning. Im sitting on my couch with my laptop resting on my legs, and I can't seem to get any damn words on the page. I sped home with an idea burning a hole in my head. Anxious and excited; I ran up the stairs, booted up my laptop to start making this GRAND idea in my head into a reality. Then two hours and 8 cigarettes went by, and everything I typed on that page was pure SHIT! So now I'm on here, incredibly frustrated, bitching to the 28-83 of you who actually read my angry rants. Each and every one of us knows what writer's block feels like. Doesn't matter if its blocking you from writing the next greatest piece of fiction, or an essay for a class, it just fucking SUCKS.

(William S. Burroughs or what I wanted to look like in the past 3 hours)

Last night my good friend and writing mentor introduced me as a writer to some pretty big name people in the LA writing scene. That was probably the first time I truly felt affirmed that I was, in some way, a WRITER. But how can I be a writer if I can't fucking write most of the TIME?

Writing is about freeing yourself of your own opinions. Writing frees you from your ALLEGIANCE to everything and anything. To be able to write, you need to be able to win the struggle of actually freeing yourself from the INHERENT pains of your own mind. To write you need to be able to be IMMORAL.(read my last post on here) We all are immoral in some way, and to truly be free and state your truest opinion you cannot hide the flaws in your morality.

I'm not AFRAID of offending anyone with my writing, nor am I afraid of my actual values projected in my writing. But I do want my writing to be loved and appreciated. And, as hypocritical as this sounds, I want people to be offended by my writing and to HATE it even. Because that would mean it moved you in some way.

"As if this great outburst of anger had purged all my ills, killed all my hopes, I looked up at the mass of signs and stars in the night sky and laid myself open for the first time to the benign indifference of the world - and finding it so much like myself in fact so fraternal, I realized that I'd been happy, and that I was still happy. For the final consummation and for me to feel less lonely, my last wish was that there should be a crowd of spectators at my execution and that they should greet me with cries of hatred." - Albert Camus, The Stranger

I KNOW I want to write. I know what I want to write. I just need to write.
FUCK WRITER'S BLOCK.


Go read my poem on here called "Blue Chicago Moon" with the thought of writer's block lingering in the back of your mind.

But before you do that, listen to this:
"so you want to be a writer" - Charles Bukowski

Walking Man

Summer clouds rolling in over the hills
Train whistles break the silent night
Boots strapped on tight.
Short Skirt, Black Stockings
Three Glasses of Bourbon Neat
Jr. Kimbrough flooding out the train
Meeting hands, Loose tank top,
Nooks and crannies, Tongue-tied.
Handful of Ass, Hand Wrapped
Around your neck. Tight.
Tugging hair, Nails digging deep.
Love me for just one night,
Or till this buzz wears off.

Perception

So I lied to myself and those of you who read this blog. I made a promise that I'd update this weekly (every Thursday night) but this past week or so my mood swings have really kicked my ass. I've been on a streak of really shitty days, but today I feel alright so I guess here is your peak into the odd mind of Hakop.


As of late I have been thinking about what people think of me, and it's scary how much someone else's perception of me effects my emotions.

A couple of years ago I was labeled as "the drunk", a label I might have deserved but never wanted. At one point or another I was labeled as "The hipster", which explains why people have come to think of me as pretentious and overly opinionative. Recently some people have even gone as far as labeling me as a "Womanizer douchebag who uses woman for his gain". I know, I had a good laugh when I heard that last one too. But nonetheless, any label be it true or not still has some effect on the person being labeled. The simplest effect is that when the labeler is committing the act of labeling me to someone who doesn't know me, their perception of me will no doubt be strongly effected by the labels given to me.

The worst effect these labels have on me is that they make me second guess what I think of myself. Sometimes I buy into these given labels, like when I would drink excessively just so I wouldn't let people down or act a certain way to fulfill the overly opinionative label.

Now the advice everyone gives on this topic is to not care what people think or say about you, just know that you and those close to you know who you really are. But when you don't really value yourself highly and are extremely self-conscious, it is pretty easy to forget who you are. I really don't know who or what I am, but I definitely do know what I'm not.

(Nigel Van Wiek) 

I am not a drunk! I have a very loving relationship with liquor, but that doesn't make me a drunk. I know my limit and don't jump at the chance to be drunk all the time.

I am not a hipster! Just cause I enjoy a certain type of music, the way I dress, the places I frequent, and the fact that my liking for things doesn't last long doesn't mean I am a hipster. And since I don't identify and marginalize myself as a hipster don't call me one!

I am not pretentious! I don't regard myself higher than anybody else, and I definitely don't try to act more important or talented than anyone else. I'll be the first to let you know I am not good at something, I DO NOT LIE ABOUT MY ABILITIES.

Even though I shouldn't state the obvious, I am not a womanizing douchebag who uses women for my personal and physical gain! If you have trouble believing that read my last post about love and romance. I am as hopeless as a hopeless romantic can get. I couldn't be a womanizer if I wanted to be, ask me about "The Heisman" and you'll get why this specific label given to me is a hilarious one.

(Picasso - Portrait of Jaime Sabartes)

I don't know why I specifically wrote about this topic this week, but I like to ramble and that is what this blog is for. So I rambled and got a few things off my chest that have been a burden to me lately. Expect a poem soon from me titled "Fuck you Charles Bukowski" which I will hopefully read this weekend and post up here after. Till then DON'T FUCKING LABEL ME!

(Listen to this, don't worry you can thank me for this song in person!)