Really?

Okay, so I have these silly dreams and aspirations that one day, maybe, I will be this somewhat successful author, or maybe even a decent teacher, one who doesn't go around banging his high school students, and driving off to Mexico to hide out in seclusion with his 14 year old, sexually confused girlfriend. Ridiculous, I know. I think the thing that irritates me most is that I am no different from any other dickhead with a computer, and at least a 7th grade reading level. Do you know how many people out there think that they are a great writer, and thinker, and have all of these amazing ideas that need to be put down in print? These people that have all of these poetic, and meaningful words, that once read, will just move someone so much that they have to get a shitty tattoo of it across their shoulder blades. Well, I don't either, but I'm sure there are a ton of talentless hacks out there, such as myself. And you know what? It really bugs me. It pisses me off to think that I might be somewhat decent at something that I love to do, just because some dork heard a Caught in the Fall song (my old endeavour) and was moved by some line from a song that I wrote when I was 19. What makes me think that I might have a shot at actually doing something with writing? Again, I really don't know. I read the works of these amazing authors, such as Neil Gaiman, and Joseph Heller, and I think, "there is no way in hell I could ever come up with something this brilliant." Have you ever read The Master and Margarita? That shit will blow your mind! I am currently reading "Everything is Illuminated" by Jonathan Safran Foer, and it is absolutely blowing me away. Anyone in the world can write a line that gives people goosebumps, or makes them think about their first love, and makes them tear up, recalling the fond memories of their lost virginity, but this guy blows every line that you have ever considered to be moving OUT OF THE WATER. I read his work and I feel ashamed. Ashamed that I could ever consider myself to someday be capable of creating even a sentence as captivating as his fucking dedication list. Jesus!
Whoa, just got distracted by the television. On the discovery channel, I just watched a CGI dinosaur poop out an egg, and it was pretty intense. Anyways, back to the matter at hand. In a nutshell, it really sucks to love something, and have such a passion for it, but deep down inside you know that it is a lost cause. And the worst part about being an aspiring writer, or what have you, is the fact that for every good author, and every great piece of literature, there are about a thousand dickheads with piece of shit books getting published. For example, this whole vampire craze that is spreading like AIDS throughout our country. They have an entire aisle at the bookstore dedicated to these teen vampire romance novels. For fucking real? Yes, for FUCKING real. It sucks, but can you be surprised? Absolutely not. If I were to ever "make it" with anything I would not want it to be with some kind of garbage like 'The Chronicles of Sheila: Lesbian Vampire", or whatever the fuck it is these ill informed kids are reading these days. And don't pat yourselves on the back if your older than 18, and think you have some kind of right to consider yourself a literature snob. Reading the works of Dan Brown, and Tom Clancy don't count for shit either.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I have this dream of writing something that will blow people away. Let's face it, what's the point in writing if it sucks? Or writing something that is just mediocre? That, my friends, is what Chuck Pahlaniuk does (sic?). I want to write the next Catch 22, or Catcher in the Rye. And you know what? It is not acceptable to me if it does not happen. I think that is the only thing that I truly have on my side in this endeavour. Writing is just about the most frightening thing in the world. Don't believe me? Try it. Go on. Go out there, put your most personal feelings on the line, every creative fiber in your body, attach them to a line, and throw them out into an ocean of people who are just waiting to fuck you up. Absolutely terrifying. However, that is just something you have to deal with. I guess if all of this doesn't pan out though, I can always write some erotic stories for Hustler. I'm pretty good with coming up with different ways to describe vagina's and dicks.
In conclusion, don't get me wrong, not everyone should chase their dreams of being a world renowned writer. It's not for everyone. I'm not a motivational speaker, nor am I an endorser of shitty, sub par teenage poetry. Let's keep the goth, wrist cutting, crappy stories of nights filled with Bauhaus records, and awkward first kisses to a minimum. They work as amazing time killers while browsing the Internet at work, but that is where they should remain. But if you insist on persevering through it, there is always an spot open for your work right next to 'The Chronicles of Sheila: Lesbian Vampire" on the shelves at Borders. Goodnight, vampires, or should I say good morning?