First, an update : ordered my groceries for this week this morning. Was pleasantly surprised to see there were delivery slots open for today.
So some time between 5 pm and 7 pm, my goodies shall arrive.
Now I just have to make sure I am awake at the time despite a lack of caffeine in my bloodstream. No groceries means no Diet Coke to keep me going.
And judging by how tired I am right now, I am probably going to spend the rest of the afternoon asleep at the very least.
Guess I had better set an alarm just in case.
It occurred to me last night that deep down, I am not at all worried about whether or not I can succeed in the world.
After all, I am one ridiculously talented and intelligent person. I am confident that if I could just get my work and myself in front of the right people, they would realize how amazing I am and want me to make them a whole lot of money.
I would, of course, be all too happy to oblige.
So really, it’s a matter of when, not if. When I am mentally healthy enough, I will find my way to the world outside my mind, and enjoy success there.
And that makes it easier to make it through the day for yours truly by giving me a destination pulling me forward through the miasma of my fears.
Life is always better when you have something to look forward to. And having the faith in my abilities to believe that I will succeed makes the whole prospect of trying seem a whole lot less scary.
Something to keep in mind as I make it through the days, one day at a time.
All I have to do is make it out that big ol door.
Wish me luck.
Half an ass
It’s better to do things badly than to not do them at all.
No really…. it is.
As far as I am concerned, perfectionism is an enemy of art. People get to feeling like if it isn’t perfect, it’s not worth doing, and that’s insane.
Because how will you ever achieve perfection if you don’t do it badly and learn from it?
I feel the need to tell this to myself again and again because I am in the process of murdering all my excuses and this is one of the big ones.
The desire to make videos that were better than my previous work rapidly mutated into the feeling that there was no point in trying because my work wouldn’t be good enough.
You just can’t give depression an inroad like that.
So I hereby give myself permission once more to half-ass it. To do a quick and sloppy job. To slap things together however, throw it onto the internet in one form or another, and call it a day.
Because at the end of the day. I would rather produce a ton of half-assed bullshit than absolute no videos at all.
Some of us, I think, are simply not meant to work on things until we can’t think of any more ways to make it better. I envy the people who can function that way because I can’t. I have to operate on waves of inspiration and get the most out of the energy while I have it and when the wave crashes, so do I.
And then, I truly never want to see the goddamned thing again. It is worse than dead to me. It’s grosser than yesterday’s toilet paper to me. It has to go.
And I think I know why. Part of being the overflowing fountain of creativity that I am is that anything that gets in the way of new ideas must die, die, die.
And nothing gets in the way of new ideas like old ideas.
That’s what kills and disposes of the thing once I am done with it. It is dead to me forever, and nothing can bring it back.
And I say this knowing how crazy it sounds. From an innocently logical point of view, there would seems to be nothing keeping me from rewriting a story I wrote before so that I can do a better job this time.
And I am slowly getting there. The idea doesn’t seem as monstrous as it once did. And I have found myself wanting another crack at things I wrote before.
\So I am very carefully nursing this little flame of transcendence in hopes that one day, it will turn me into a real writer who can just keep hammering away at the thing till it’s finally as good as I can make it.
But the going is mighty slow. I don’t feel like I will be there any time soon.
Till then, Plan B is to explore and try to figure out what makes me this way and how to be a good writer despite this handicap.
The only answer I have for that is “find an editor”. If there was someone who read the thing, pointed out all the flaws, and give it back to me, I could then fix the flaws and pass the thing back and forth with the person until we both agree it’s good.
And this has been known to happen. All it would take is an editor or other gatekeeper who thought I was talented enough to be worth the effort to teach.
Quality ore, from which an amazing author could be smelted and forged.
Dunno where I could find someone like that. But they are out there, I am sure.
I suppose the logical route would be to submit my stuff to lots of different places in hopes that one of the gatekeepers of said places takes an interest in me.
Either that, or I need a bitter, brutal rival who will seize any imperfection of my work and use it against me, so I have to make it airtight.
That seems much more stressful, but I am desperate.
However I get there, I want to become a real writer one day.
And after that, maybe I will even become a real person.
Dare to dream, right?
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.