Slacker, this one's for you!
Recently, a question was posed by a friend, who came to a conclusion after reading my blog that I was conflicted. Here's the reality, spurred on by Slacker, my partner in crime, sometime nemesis, sometime muse, I have been writing. To rid myself but also to free myself. Because you see, I cannot not write anymore. I wake up every morning with a multiplicity of ideas buzzing around in my head. Everything has to wait or take second place so that until I put it down. Like an old friend, my need to write has returned, insistent to catch up, picking up where we last left off. It has been singularly liberating.
Let me tell you about Slacker. Though I had known him for years through our various incarnations; television whores, Government hacks, frustrated writers, we became real friends in the circumstance of his relationship with my friend coming apart. I've now seen Slacker at his worst and at his best.
Slacker's not the tallest man around, but he uses his body so expressively that he is larger than life. I love watching Slacker in action. He is the consummate lyrics man, spinning his charm across the female body. Watch him dance, his compact body grooving to the music, it is infectious and you understand why women want to sleep with him. We are not lovers, never have been nor will we ever be, it is his writing that draws me in. Slacker pushes me to want to be better in my own craft. That to me is more valuable than sex.