I Am Here To Write The World

On my 27th birthday, I got myself a tattoo. I stole the idea from my friend Matt Corbin, who told me on our way back from Alaska about the various tattoos that he eventually wanted to get once he could decide on what the first one was going to be.

My first thought for a tattoo was a toss-up between speedy Gonzales or Pepe Le pew, but his idea sounded like a much better option. They would be a globe with a pen through it, surrounded by the words “vini vidi vici” (we came, we saw, we conquered). I wasn’t too keen on the Latin, but I figured the globe with the pen through it was a heck of a lot better than honoring animated varmints with anxiety disorders and sex addictions through cultural appropriation.

For me, it was a challenge to “write the world”. I wanted to write to the world, about the world, for the world, and the world I wanted to see. Ten books, forty songs, and a plethora of poetry and other pages no one may ever read later, I can say that I’ve done a fairly decent job of it. However, I would be lying if I said I didn’t think that I could have done much more.

Fortunately, I still have a beating heart, a working mind, a typewriter, a phone, a tablet, and if things ever get desperate, I can always pick up a pen and bleed my inken soul onto paper when required to. So two months before my next birthday, I am rededicating myself to writing the world. At least for the next two months, I’m committing myself to type at least a page on my Olympia and at least 444 words on one of my other devices. Considering…