Why I write doesn’t make much sense. And I’m OK with no one else getting it. I have always felt like I have a story that needs to get out of my head like it is trapped in a jail of thoughts struggling, fighting, begging to be set free. I guess maybe it does make sense I don’t know. Since high school I discovered I had a way with words. I learned I could bullshit my way through any test as long as it had an essay of some sort. I’m pretty sure that’s the only way I passed 10th grade. I don’t know if I really enjoyed writing at that point though I think the love for writing came much later when I realized I wasn’t constrained to the subject matter thought up by a teacher or professor. I wrote a little in my mid 20’s mostly bad punk song lyrics that never saw daylight outside my tattered sketchbook carefully tucked away in the bottom of my pack. Though at that time booze, boys, and freight trains ruled my life. It wasn’t until my oldest son, Rayne, was born the I discovered the power written word could have. He was just a tiny tiny baby not more than 3 months old. I wrote him a letter. It was meant to give to him on the day he graduated from high school. When he was big, and strong, a full grown man that I still think of as that tiny tiny baby. Life got complicated though. Everything turned upside down. And looking back on that letter that I wish I held on to when everything else was lost, as I sit in the back of my car watching traffic speed past, I fear I will never see that day. When he’s a grown man, showing off to his friends, writing his own essays attempting to get into some college far far away from the life he knows. How I would give anything to have both him and his brother together in my arms and have the world make sense again. For 3 years I’ve fought to make something of myself, a place I could bring them home to, and for 3 years I have failed miserably. So why do I write? There is a story in my heart. It starts with the birth of a beautiful, screaming baby boy, and it ends… well I guess we will see how it ends. Although my biggest fear is that it ends in heartbreak.