…and what’s it all about?

Snoopy bastards…it’s not enough that I post all my work and spill my guts, delve into my deepest darkest secrets, and willingly reveal the most awkward, embarrassing, questionably functional moments, thoughts, and feelings.  Oh, no, you mierdo culero ojete want to know something about my life too. 

Well, …ok.
You probably guessed that I am currently from Seattle, home of the ever-developing corporate states of amerika, and ground zero for the most repressive regime in this whole united states - and I’ve lived most everywhere.  I will address this issue in the rants section more thoroughly.  Aside from all that bullshit, this is a beautiful, and occasionally magical place to be from.  Especially if you like rain.

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William Cruz: Writer 
wc@williamcruz.com

My writing is lean, cogent, and powerful.  Prolific, I’m compelled by empathy, imagination, and an extraordinary life experience.

“It’s a sudden, sharp kick in the nuts.”
Julie Bonaduce, Prize Winning Poet/Damnosa.com

“Brilliant”
Liberty Magazine

Current Focus:
Short Story: Publication
Weekly Opinion Column: Scenes from the Class War
Real Change News http://www.realchangenews.org
Writing Experience:

Editorial/Opinion:
The Power of Gratitude, Show me the Money, Spare the Rod…
Proposal/Business Writing/Web Design: 
CompuMedia Sales, GameSnatch, New Media Group, My Media Boy, Peel Interactive, Seattle Weekly, STOMP Boots, Wired Web  1997-2003
Poetry Debut: 24 hour World Record Open Mike, World Poetry Slam Finals, Seattle, Washington, 2002. 

Contests:
Nerve.com Erotica Poetry competition – 1st runner up. 2003

Groups:
Founding member, Fremont Writing Group
Member, Writer’s Revolt/tribe.net  2004

Education:
University of Washington; Screenwriting Certificate
Stewart Stern, Mentor. Participation by competition 2002

Ephemera: 
Musician/songwriter with 30+ years performing experience.  25 songs, a screenplay, 5 children’s stories, 30 short stories, 250+ poems, and one really crappy novel.
References available upon request.

For further detail: resume@williamcruz.com

“Searing intensity” the jacket says, and I don’t know about that, but I do know that 30 seconds into this movie we’ve got “stole-my-heart-forever-in-Tootsie” Jessica Lange prowling around in her slip on a hot southern evening, and now we know what the metaphor is all about.  This woman desperately needs a good hard shagging.  We just might have to take this wood out and make ourselves a little kindling…you can have your Lolita porn, as long as full grown women like Jessica are still runnin’ around.

That being said, this is still a Tennessee Williams’ play, and whatever else is true these people talk, talk, talk, talk, talk….I’m surprised that Tennessee was well-adjusted enough not to shoot his characters, presumably based on the real people he knew.  It’s no wonder that Tommy Lee’s character drinks, if only to drown the constant sound of his wife’s voice. Fortunately the microwave is just a few feet behind my viewing head, and I get that little tingle at the base of my skull…that helps a little.

But, this is still a Tennessee Williams’ play…and worth listening to if only for lines like:  “later tonight, I’m going to tell you that I love you and maybe by then you will be drunk enough to believe it”. 

Format:  DVD

so, I will do anything to avoid writing and finding out the truth about myself - anything at all - work, sex, lose sleep, eat, exercise - and most, if not all of my compulsivity arises from my unwillingness to confront my own internal reality and though this is incredibly satisfying and empowering - I hate that fucking word - it is also so incredibly painful - and I don’t want to be a reasonable fucking man - I want to say fuck the whole world, over and over - and the deep despair -0 the incredibly resistant impulse to self destruction just keeps rolling through, over and over and over and over me - until I don’t know what - I cannot do it, I have set barriers and there is nothing left to do but do it suddenly - to put my gun in my mouth and blow the back of my fucking, freaking head off - and cocaine, my sister, she waits silently for me -that is one death angel, and there are so many avenues and why can’t I go into my grave and sleep and have all of the torment be over and wake up in that distant land that we dream about so much - the human fucking conundrum - it never stops rolling, never stops rolling, just keeps rolling us on and forward and what of it, and where of it, and how of it, and isn’t this just the shit of it all - yes indeedy - this exorcism this vile exercise and thank god that my wrists hurt and could I truly dedicate all of my dysfunctional energy to this exercise and I am considering all of my relentless compulsive options to this any fucking thing but letting it out and letting it go and - Read the rest of this entry »