Please Kill Me,
Greetings my otherworldly bucket of deplorables (I don’t mean that, I just feel like Hillary Clinton won’t be using it ever again #Recycled). Seriously, how are you guys? I’m good – just sitting here in the ol’ writer’s den, spinning yarns, and getting in touch with my spiritual side (Lies! He’s drinking!). In any case, it seemed like a good time to pop in and drop some word-knowledge on you jive turkeys *regrets watching That 70’s Show*.
Frustration (the rich man’s #anger). So, I’m not sure how many of you saw my little hissy-fit the other day, but I basically decided that it was a good idea to dump a bunch of unfinished work on the site just for the living hell of it. Though I’m usually all for random acts of (half-sober) fury – this was kind of a disservice to you guys and myself (mostly myself).
I made the half-baked decision out of a sort of desperation to clear my authorial plate (patent pending). Though I’ve since taken it down (and replaced it with the Gun of Crow) – I know that it wasn’t necessarily the most intelligent thing I’ve ever done -though I suppose – the list of intelligent things I’ve done could be seen as rather short (*shrugs* What do you want from me? I’m an artist. We quite literally SPEW insanity). Luckily, saner heads prevailed. But this got me thinking about what the cause for the break was.
In the midst of attempting to accomplish a plethora of things at a single time (between the multiple sites that I’m writing for, the editing, the new writing, etc, etc, etc, )- plus work-life, I’ve kind of forced myself into this corner of impossible expectation. Yes, that’s right kids this particular iteration of Icarus flew too close to the sun (and got his backside handed to him like a rack of ribs).
My frustration grew from my general disdain for the human condition. I tried to work myself like a machine in the hopes of cutting some of the mounting anticipatory time out of the way. (We all just want to get to the top of that freaking mountain). I paid the price for my lack of patience by allowing frustration to cloud my judgment. In essence, I threw away a part of what I need to achieve. It’s akin to racing and thinking that by getting rid of a tire, you’ll somehow move faster (which I guess is true -until you inevitably crash).
That’s what frustration ultimately becomes if you allow it to go unchecked. It’s a moment of improvement with the unavoidable consequence of missing your mark altogether. It shouldn’t go without saying that I’m under a fair amount of pressure off the page too (but that’s an issue for Oprah).
The lesson here kids -know when you’re pushing yourself too far. At the very least be honest enough with yourself to address it before it swallows you whole like an Anaconda (or those ummm…. “plump” people on buffet lines).
Well, that’s it for now – I’m gonna go reflect, while staring into a pond, and listening to Adele (Lies! He’s pouring more whiskey! ((The Adele part is probably true though)).
Rolling in the DEEEEEPPPPP!!!,