i’ve been thinking of my literary relevance lately, or rather i’ve been thinking about it every moment i think about writing. i read other blogs and i see so much energy and thought and vocabulary. there is so much creativity and deeply artistic expression. what exactly do i bring? i bring nothing but literary masturbation (i read that somewhere, it stuck). i think i’m just playing it safe by just writing my thoughts. no one can dispute my thoughts. right? no one can tell me what i feel isn’t real. right? i think i get so much of that criticism and doubt in the real world, that writing is my escape. when i was a child, reading was my escape from my household. my mind was an escape. i often muse to myself that English is my 2nd language; Thought is my first. i think soooooo much. really. all of the time. i can imagine a lifetime with a stranger i see walking in front of my car at a stop sign. in those few seconds he has courted me, ravished me, grown old with me and loved me deeper than the depths of the universe. this is ALL of the time. constant. imagining places, people, things, feelings, sounds, sensations. my fortress built to protect me as a child has become my own prison of sorts in adulthood. i do always make the effort to connect to others. i unconsciously choose that which  (‘that which’. really? yeah. really.) brings me to people, direct contact. but then, ‘I’ arrive with my intuition, my 6th sense, my ‘I see fake people’ and i can’t tolerate the bullshit any longer. i need to be alone. where the incessant flurry of my own thoughts becomes white noise and i am at peace. and i know, (not deep down, but right on the surface) that this is the reason why i can’t form lasting bonds: i prefer the safety and the truth of my own mind to the shit called society.  so… short story long, what i write is relevant because it comes from me. it comes from truth, it comes from pain, it comes from a lifetime of learning and a lifetime of being vulnerable. my relevance comes from a lifetime of doing that which (Yes! that which) scares me the most. failing at times but conquering just the same. so i will continue this unknown journey, without doubt, without reservation, knowing i am relevant. my words have relevance.