Devil in the Details

 As research is progressing along the lines of learning how to be a freelance writer, I've come across the unwashed underbelly of content writing. 

A quirk of my personality is the inability to lie. I can stretch the truth, I can expand on an idea to incorporate possibilities and hypotheticals, I can even stretch my opinion to witness and incorporate the perspectives of others, but outright lying for the sake of content production is not within my realm of abilities and makes me a bit sick in the belly to acknowledge lying as a means of income production. 

When an employer calls for content producers who are able to write against their own opinions or who can produce for the sake of content production, the ethical bunny in my head rears up on its back legs, flicks its little bunny ears and reaches into its little bunny basket for the most accessible incendiary device (my ethical bunny wears camo and carries a basket of grenades). 

There is too much noise for the sake of noise in the world. I can't tolerate it as it is, why would I contribute to the incessant din for the sake of contributing to the din? That is contra-self-care for a person who is seeking pure self and value in this extended breathing period. 

Since leaving the hill (several years ago, now) I have been confronted over and over again with my naivete, idealism, and simplicity as if they were a calf-skin glove to the face, but what is the point of living this autistic life (thump chest with autistic gang sign) if I can't be true to my naive, idealistic and simplistic self? A half-truth or outright untruth writhes in my chest like a bag of snakes, fills the pit of my stomach with the bile of diseased culture and forces me into the blank-stared overwhelm of facing the demon of what is wrong with the world and its doomed occupants.

It will be quite a while before I attempt to pitch for a freelance writing position because I have to prepare. I must establish a writing history (this blog and Twitter should do for that, perhaps?). I have to establish with myself what my limitations and abilities are, along with developing the skills I will need to communicate with the people who are responsible for hiring writers. Underscoring all of that is a deep dive into attempting to uncover the aspects of interaction I am ignorant of along these lines of professional development. 

{There are entire scopes of communication I am not able to access because the levels of social interaction that are required to communicate successfully to certain groups are alien to me, like what it takes to catch the ears of young people who gather at night-time establishments to meet and converse with strangers in a manner that isn't polite and yet develops relationships (?! What is that about? How can you talk to mean people and want to spend time with them? How is that a thing?).}

I will interact with this world on the terms that will allow me to sleep at night. I cannot complicate this life because I cannot tolerate complication, it's the way my brain works, and I have to go with what I've been given. I stretch myself as much as I can, while recognizing my limitations and talents.

 I am anomalous. I am pure Tania. I keep moving, one foot in front of the other.