Menu

Kevin G Hare

Official Author Site

Perceptual Obscureness

Who, what, when, where, why and how are not just questions that make up our everyday news stories.  They are the foundations upon which we try to perceive our entire existence.  Who are we?  What are we doing?  When is it going to happen?  Where will we be in the future?  Why us and how did this come to pass?  This is what we ask ourselves.  This is what we want to know.  The irony is that though we have very little or no interest in other peoples’ lives, we are constantly drawn to their dirty laundry and their downfalls.  We can’t help but watch the dread and disaster on the news because it makes us feel better about our own lives.  No news is good news except that bad news is good news to you.  If you catch my meaning.

We surround ourselves in conundrum.  We ask questions and look for answers from people we think ought to know.  When we don’t receive the answers we want to hear, we oppose and lash out with contumely behaviour.

Bah!  Dr. Phil I am not nor want to be!  Let them have their talk shows, let them try to fix the world.  They are well aware that they won’t, they know they can’t – they know that’s why their show isn’t facing cancellation.

I am a writer.  I have a desire to express myself through the written word.  It’s because I’m not that articulate in real life and when I write I can always find the right words.  I can shape ideas, mould experience or fuddle perspective.  That’s why we love literature.  Within the span of a few carefully written pages, the writer can take the reader through an emotional oscillation of joy, sorrow, hate, love or even fear.  All we need to do is read – our imagination does the rest.

This is not the first time I have attempted a newsletter or blurb of scribed, rhetoric of dictum.  I have always searched for a means to express my odd and sometimes maladjusted gobbledegook.  That is who I perceive myself to be after all.  I am not below average nor am I above average; I walk the path on the outside of average.  This is my comfort zone, the stuff I want to express in this tiny rag of gibberish.  Here, unlike previous attempts at newsletters, I have not the boundaries and conformities of an established workplace.  Though I have liberties to fully express the eccentricities of my mind, I only wish for clean, abated humour and philosophy for a general audience.

Some will read this and get a chuckle, some will read it and hate it.  A lot won’t read it at all.  I will not hold much concern either way for that is the life of a writer.  You attempt, you try and you hope someone does read it.  But you do not give up trying.  My father says that is Irish stubbornness to not relinquish to fear and hopelessness.  Perhaps the old gaffer has some stored wisdom after all.

I will hope that someone does read this because I hope to fuddle perception.  Like it or not, I hope to make someone think about the who, what, when, where, why and how.  And I hope to show what can happen when you make a write turn to the left!

          Regards.


Mailing list!

Join Our Mailing List