The Failing Truth

What have I become? I find myself on the end of a spectrum that seems to grow more painfully obvious with every great debate or argument of my existence. This is a road that I’m strangely familiar with, the scenery too repetitive to not know where I am. I am at the place I started.
It’s weird to see years go by, to lose hair and gain it, to see myself in the mirror and find someone else staring back…an older me, a me that I didn’t imagine I’d ever be. We are what we accomplish, what we’ve done and where we’ve landed, and the footprints are too close together. There’s something wrong when the sum of a man is easier to produce through the accomplishments never achieved. When the world is blaring at a level so overwhelming that screams are muffled beneath it, because I’ve become the background noise, not even the star of my own personal Truman show.
I’ll admit it, I feel defeated. A plan not finished, a dream gone sour, a vision unfulfilled. After absorbing so many different stories, reading and watching the things that have become mainstream, verifying what the world wants and measuring it to the flooding thoughts and ideas that feel so abundant, I shudder at the idea that my thoughts are not good enough–like a sea of lost potential lapping at the edges of my consciousness begging to be made whole, to exist in more than just electrical synapses huddled in the far reaches of my mind. It wants to be poured out, these things need to slip loose from inside, like anything in this life when words are held in they only poison the holder.
I almost wish I could raise a kickstarter for my life, help me find my sanity, help a writer become what he claims to be…just pennies a day and you can give a Santi his dream back. It’s not too much of a stretch, I know stress can do funny things, maybe these ideas have finally hit their capacity. Maybe my head and heart have found a way to push me, that if I don’t pour some words on a page directly from my heart I’ll poison myself with their authenticity. It did feel good to type these words. Maybe after I work tomorrow I’ll find that line again, and something more than a rant will spill free.


Too plugged in

  I apologize in advance.  I’m not an average blogger, I like my stories and enjoy my fiction.  But today I feel like sharing my thoughts.
  I’ve grown tired of a growing trend.  People are consumed by their digital domains.  Enthralled with the unseen world of tweets, instagram, and facebook.  I’m not against technology, if I was, this post would be a load of…well you follow.  I’m upset with its all powerful grasp on the attention span of weak focus.  When people are staring at their phones instead of talking to their loved ones.  Fantasy is a wonderful place to lose yourself during a boring day, but it isn’t a place to live.
  I’m worried about our future, if we place our lives on the internet then we, ourselves, must remain plugged in to maintain it.

Oh the irony in posting this.