Writing as a Married Man

One thing for sure: Marriage settles a lot of things (like the question of, who will I be with for the rest of my life?), but it can't settle all things. And it's not supposed to do that.

I want to be a writer. I have always wanted to write. It's what I think about doing when I have nothing to distract me. I would do it even if I didn't think I'd get paid. I probably won't get paid, but I have to know that that is okay. I cannot forgo my happiness.

2010 is going to be awesome.

Riding around in my automobile, my baby beside me at the wheel. Four big, muddy hogs somehow got in the car too, but they're just jamming out to some tuneskies.

I feel like eating for sport.

When you eat

food, which is fuel, and your body breaks it down into manageable packets of energy, and then goes through that energy which is expelled as heat and picked up elsewhere, it's a beautiful thing, as if at every moment the universe were breathing with us and with everything.

Dang

How beautiful is this life?! I want to drink it all up!

Is it such a bad thing to want so much? I'm kind of a materialistic bastard. I truly don't need much of anything to make me happy, but I suppose that I do need things to keep me active and driven. And maybe staying active and driven is one of the few things I need to make me happy. Make sense? Btw, second blog post by text. Wizzah!