Day 11: Falling off the wagon, getting back on the horse
So, I'm not sure how or why, but I decided that for some reason I stopped making updates. I had a shitty birthday and well, I sort of shut people out for the most part. It perhaps wasn't something that I should have done, but I did it anyway. Moving on from that.
I've been having strange dreams lately. Not necessarily Lovecraftian style dreams, (I see enough of that during my day dreams.) I see things more along the lines of: I've been diagnosed with cancer and have six months to live.
So, naturally, I freak out a bit.
But if I had to measure my life in a manner of six months from this point I wouldn't use that six months playing video games and writing software. I'd sell every possession that wasn't nailed down (sans my computer and my writings). Anything I couldn't or wouldn't I would offer to friends, anything that survived would be given to charity. Then, I'd write. I'd write for hours a day every day until the end. I would write without eating, I would write without sleeping. I would reach unnatural writing goals, and whenever my friends called upon me I would go out with them to hang in person. Never online. I would use the last of my money visiting people I care about. Then I would count down the last few days with drinking. If I survived the day after that, I'd keep writing. I would consider every moment after that one borrowed time, and I would write furiously, never stopping.
Then one day I would die, but I would've died doing what I always wanted to do. I died fulfilling at least one life dream before the end. I'd be ok with that death. If I died of a heart attack tomorrow without ever putting down word to paper again, I would haunt this world. I would feel... unsatisfied. Unfulfilled.
I don't know if I'm even talented at arranging words. I just know the difference between reaching for a dream and waiting in line for the dream to come to you. I know what I'm doing is waiting patiently for my life to turn into something else. I'm waiting for life to be better. Does waiting even make sense anymore? If change was gonna happen before the 26 year mark, wouldn't it have happened by now? Doesn't that mean change has to come from me? In which case, waiting is the same thing as cutting off your leg in hopes that you'll one day run better. It is wanting to attract a mate while eating pizza every day and getting depressed when no one can love a 300 pound you. Waiting doesn't solve that problem.
I had a (singular? read: several) friend(s) tell me that if there is a part of your life you don't like you have the power to change it. The problem is that perspective is true.. and it isn't. If given the time and resources, I could change my station and work toward fulfilling my dreams. However, there "...ain't no tuition for having no ambition, And ain't no loans for sitting your ass at home" as the philosopher poet Mr. West once said. If you want to live doing what you want, you gotta have money.
This seems to be the great conflict of my time. Hell, of my generation's time. It's not that we aren't good enough to get jobs, it's that they're all dried up. Entertainment seems to be the industry that's pushing us forward. All others are failing. And we all better start donning jester masks.
We're the clowns for the world now. But we put on our masks and give the people what we want for money. We steal it from them. We give them things they don't need and they love us for it. And that's what my generation has to be. We are the generation of Court Jesters. We should stand up and be counted as such. We should take money from those much more privileged than us, with our art, with our words, with our song.
Let the show begin.
I've been having strange dreams lately. Not necessarily Lovecraftian style dreams, (I see enough of that during my day dreams.) I see things more along the lines of: I've been diagnosed with cancer and have six months to live.
So, naturally, I freak out a bit.
But if I had to measure my life in a manner of six months from this point I wouldn't use that six months playing video games and writing software. I'd sell every possession that wasn't nailed down (sans my computer and my writings). Anything I couldn't or wouldn't I would offer to friends, anything that survived would be given to charity. Then, I'd write. I'd write for hours a day every day until the end. I would write without eating, I would write without sleeping. I would reach unnatural writing goals, and whenever my friends called upon me I would go out with them to hang in person. Never online. I would use the last of my money visiting people I care about. Then I would count down the last few days with drinking. If I survived the day after that, I'd keep writing. I would consider every moment after that one borrowed time, and I would write furiously, never stopping.
Then one day I would die, but I would've died doing what I always wanted to do. I died fulfilling at least one life dream before the end. I'd be ok with that death. If I died of a heart attack tomorrow without ever putting down word to paper again, I would haunt this world. I would feel... unsatisfied. Unfulfilled.
I don't know if I'm even talented at arranging words. I just know the difference between reaching for a dream and waiting in line for the dream to come to you. I know what I'm doing is waiting patiently for my life to turn into something else. I'm waiting for life to be better. Does waiting even make sense anymore? If change was gonna happen before the 26 year mark, wouldn't it have happened by now? Doesn't that mean change has to come from me? In which case, waiting is the same thing as cutting off your leg in hopes that you'll one day run better. It is wanting to attract a mate while eating pizza every day and getting depressed when no one can love a 300 pound you. Waiting doesn't solve that problem.
I had a (singular? read: several) friend(s) tell me that if there is a part of your life you don't like you have the power to change it. The problem is that perspective is true.. and it isn't. If given the time and resources, I could change my station and work toward fulfilling my dreams. However, there "...ain't no tuition for having no ambition, And ain't no loans for sitting your ass at home" as the philosopher poet Mr. West once said. If you want to live doing what you want, you gotta have money.
This seems to be the great conflict of my time. Hell, of my generation's time. It's not that we aren't good enough to get jobs, it's that they're all dried up. Entertainment seems to be the industry that's pushing us forward. All others are failing. And we all better start donning jester masks.
We're the clowns for the world now. But we put on our masks and give the people what we want for money. We steal it from them. We give them things they don't need and they love us for it. And that's what my generation has to be. We are the generation of Court Jesters. We should stand up and be counted as such. We should take money from those much more privileged than us, with our art, with our words, with our song.
Let the show begin.
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