A moment is all a person can expect from perfection.

Chuck Palahniuk knew what he was talking about when he wrote these words. And I have a moment that fits the description.

Writing is hand-in-hand a blessing and a curse. Now you might wonder how in the world is writing a curse? Well imagine endless hours just spent staring at nothing. Staring at the computer screen waiting for the words to write themselves. A piece of paper, pen in hand, waiting for lightning to strike. Writing doesn't happen that quick. Writers can also seem very boring, imagine watching a man poised over his keyboard, looking at a mediocre paragraph, highlighting it, and throwing it away into oblivion with the tap of a backspace button. It's not like watching a basketball game. Most of the time I have too many thoughts buzzing inside my head, too many story ideas. It's hard to focus on just one.

I'm working on a short story in light of recent events at my household. I'll leave that at that.

Dear Reader,

Any road that is short and free of obstacles will take you someplace that you really don't want to be.

This road I'm traveling must lead to someplace great.

I can feel it in the turn of the wheel, the rumble of the engine, the rhythm of the wiperblades.

I know there is something at end of this road, my destination, someone great, someone who will put a smile on my face and lend me a caring ear. Under some chance circumstances we met, but looking back I'm glad we met, without a doubt. You say you appreciate me coming up to see you. Oh I appreciate getting the chance to. I've gone through many days of sorrow and anger, but those days have passed like a storm upon the sea, subsided if only for a short while. Talking to you and being with you brings me happiness that I do believe I have earned. The kind of happiness that melts away your cares and worries like candle wax and you're purely in that moment. Maybe that's saying too much, but I like to believe that this will bring a smile to your face. I have seen sunsets come and sunrises go, but they seem so much sweeter having been in your presence. Part of me says, "Sam, delete this immediately. What are you thinking?", yet I go on. Interesting, eh? I realize that many people will read this and judge me for being so verbose and eloquent, but I really don't care what they think. I write for myself, and they come of their own free will. Let them pick apart my every word and dissect its meaning. The masses scare me not. Be critical of my words, I say, but their opinions will not stop my pen, my mind, or my soul. I write for the person who I know through and through, me. It's sad fact to face, but you can't truly know me. I have thoughts that you can't see or hear. They're inside me, buried deep within the inner workings of my crazed mind. You could spend years and years trying to better your knowledge of me and you would still far short. So cherish those around you while you can. You'll find the seconds taste that much sweeter. I wish I could just pass into legend one day. Kids would gather around campfires while their grandfathers sat on a wooden stump smoking his pipe. "A long, long time ago, a man by the name of Samuel Levi VanGeison lived...." The tale would be so long that it would have to be split into 7 whole nights. A whole life story broken down into seven campfire nights. As I said, I wish. I realize how much power I have. At first glance, you wouldn't think much, but look deeper, my friend, deep into these ocean blue eyes of mine. Being a writer, I could subtly invoke a feeling in you, so right that it scared you. Goosebumps would crawl up and down your arms. I think I'm capable of such a feat. It seems the moon's hours have run their course and my bed is beckoning to me.

Yours truly,
The one, the only,
Samuel Levi VanGeison

Simplicity, sometimes the best.

The theory for Friday holds true again this week. I could probably go into the most minute detail about delightful and charming this night was , but I think I will stave off that want, for now. I just simply say it was great and leave it at that.

The reason this post is so late is because I have been pondering whether or not to tell you faithful readers the details of Friday night. I decided against for reasons of my own that I'm not going to divulge into, right now.