Hi, I’m Daniel! This is one of my many diaries. That’s kind of a habit of mine. I’m a habitual “diary writer.” I have this “thing” about notebooks. Maybe it’s odd, or maybe just how I entertain myself, but I can’t stand seeing empty pages. Something about the blank page seems so lonely if no one takes the time to mark on it with living, breathing, aching, loving, sinning, giving, dreaming, real life feelings, and the sentient chaotic moments of human consciousness. I have to write.
My Oddball Notebook Habit:
The blankness of unattended, unscribbled-on pages makes me want to fill them up. So whether or not I’m having a particularly brilliant idea at the time, I always have the urge to fill up notebooks with words, my words, my spirit, my randomness, my aimless wonder, my collection of feelings, my heart and mind, my life. Clearly, I’m not in it for the money; but please let me know if aimless diary-writing ever becomes profitable. I’m sure I’ll be the first to slap myself on the forehead for never having earned a penny from this particular oddball quirk of mine.
To put it plainly, I write because it feels good. That’s all. That’s the magic. Most people have never seen my mountains of diaries. That’s probably good because they’re organized into pure chaos that probably wouldn’t make sense to anyone but me – and I’m okay with that. However, in all honesty, I’m not really certain I’d want anyone to see my endless stacks of diaries. There’s always that lurking suspicion I have that someone will read my writing and completely misinterpret everything I meant. Is that a silly concern? Maybe, but so what; I write for myself, and occasionally I post that groovy goodness online. Consider this blog my latest creation, my latest diary. Let’s just hope I continue to remember where I put this one. 🙂
I’m originally from Kansas City. I grew up poor and then middle-class, but I’ve always been rich in spirit, and fortunate for the family I love so much. A family is the greatest fortune any man can ever have. My parents, whom I love with all my heart, nearly crushed me with Catholic school throughout my youth. Then I got wise, skipped ahead to college a bit early, and put myself through the absurdly overpriced halls of academia by grinding away at two or sometimes three jobs at a time, plus loans and scholarships, just to pay tuition.
Part of me resents the fact that my parents spent money on Catholic school for me, but never dropped a dime on college or any formal education that could have actually helped me earn a living. I still love them though. Actually, I adore them. They’re human, they’re mine, they make judgements for better or worse, but I love them anyway, and that’s all that matters. So I worked my fingers to the bone to put myself through a junior college, then city college. Then I finally earned an academic full ride to Mizzou where I completed grad school. Nope, I didn’t study comm. studies, English, or journalism. Actually, I studied financial planning.
Despite my natural tendency to write and express myself, I’m a numbers guy. I revel in the contradiction. I’m human and I’m alive, and maybe that’s part of what I love so much about writing crazily, insanely, ridiculously throughout this life and all it offers. After my school “daze,” I found a job in the South. The pay is good, the weather is nice, and the strangers are generally almost always friendly. But come on folks; I didn’t get online to talk about work, and you didn’t come here to read about it. I came here to write, just as I always do.
My Present Location:
After Kansas City, and then Mizzou, I lived in the American South for several years. I made my bones in Little Rock to be exact. The American South was a peculiar place, and it felt like a peculiar time for me. To this day, I still have no idea why I spent several years there. Nevertheless, I feel fortunate to have had a good job, made good friends, and learned about new people, places, things, and ways of seeing the world during the time that I was there.
As of 2016, I’m currently making it in the big obnoxious glittery city of Los Angeles, CA. However, I’ve been known to travel around a bit. Maybe you’ll find me walking through the clouds one day, maybe even dancing, and writing ‘hello’ on those big puffy clouds that look so much like crisp blank pages just begging to be filled with the marks of my humanity. Just remember to look up. 🙂
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