Where does the time go? I haven’t posted anything on this site in a long time, firstly because as I mentioned, I am fascinated with the posting of photo and short blurb on Facebook that I can change daily without too much trouble. In fact, it’s easy and the return is, in my opinion, great. You can write a book for two years and not have it published, but no one stops you from whining on Facebook to your collection of pseudo-friends who don’t give a shit but, being that they are browsing Facebook, will come across the little turds I spurt out. It is vey difficult for me to focus on any one project, being that I have failed at every creative project I have ever undertaken, and I must tell you that I have tried my very best and still faced a brick wall of consistent rejection…therefore, I now have several brick walls, each behind the other, and it will take more than a stick of dynomite to remove them. It will take random good luck and a renewal of hope based on denial, as usual. Who cares? Hope is a precious commodity- a hallucinogenic drug- and denial is the drug pimp. It’s all you need to beat the odds. If you want success, “they” suggest redoubling your failure rate.
The whole thing makes me gag. I want all the success behind me and before me. I want the work to be done and finished. I desire to rest on my Laurels. I yearn to be a has-been. Many people despair at that notion. They believe they must keep up the cloud they inflated or else be left sitting on a deflated cloud- a white vaporous nothingness. And forced to make stimulating conversation at the cocktail parties that you are now invited to, due to your limited success. Everyone is waiting for the inevitable follow-up. I have heard it is not that easy. That is why I am attempting to be famous for not doing shit– or more specifically, kind of fucking around with ability, possibility, potential and a sense of humor.
Because I have never made any money and have worked very hard –sacrificed my youth, happiness, health for my art– I don’t have a lot of desire to continue on a path that has caused me hardship and insanity. Who would if they had a sliver of common sense? I cannot fathom making money doing anything other than waitressing in a fancy restaurant or taking a government job. It seems that the dumber the job is, the more potential there is for making money. I have a good friend who recently went into real estate as a fluke and is now, after a couple of visits to certain properties and becoming adept at filling out several forms, has a huge chunk of cash in her bank account. Supply and demand is one thing… but there is something warped about this ability in our culture to generate cash with an I.Q of 100 and no talent– excepting talent to smile gratuitously in the presence of people who resemble elephants in linen.
So, the problem and you may be suffering from same — if you have been working very hard without success– the problem is to reignite your passion, hope, focus, vision. — Find an ally. Find a patron.
There is somebody out there who believes in you, still, Ask them to help you. How? Ask them to pay you for working on a project that you are convinced will come to nothing. I have a dear friend who offered to pay me 300 bucks for each chapter of a book I could complete. Is that too good to be true or what? Hell, how long does a chapter have to be, if you are a modernist exploratory experimental writer? Three sentences?
It has started me writing again. But more than that, it has given me hope in the humanity that surrounds me- and that renewed hope has spun itself into a belief that life is worth living after all. Because it is all about me, for me, and has always been about me. Those who believe in me have figured that out and they have determined that my potential greatness is worth more to the world than their ego. They have stepped aside and encouraged a truly great talent to move forward– and in doing so, take their place in history as the patrons who allowed genius to thrive. Even a real estate agent can accomplish such a task.