I don't know how to achieve the success that I want. There is a cognitive disconnect between where I am and where I want to be. I haven't taken the appropriate steps one may say, and I'm still very young. But where do I go from here is a very real question.
I sent an email to someone who claimed to be a friend of mine once. It was the the summer time and I was feeling gregarious. This friend and I hadn't seen each other in some time and I thought it would be nice to meet up, share a drink and just talk. Our text exchange went something like this:
Me: it's been too long, you wanna meet up?
Him: yea dude, let's do it.
Me: I'll BBQ and we'll crack some brews...cool?
Him: sure dude, sounds great
On the day of the actual event, chicken smoked, beer bought, and outside area prepared, here was our exchange:
Me: you headed over?
Him: dude, I got shit to take care of. My company is actually opening a branch in the Bronx next year, so I will totally see you all the time!
Me: oh. Wow. Well, hopefully I'll see you before next year then....
That kind of shit happens a lot. White people are terrified of the Bronx and , as a sensitive soul, I read into their refusal to come. As a Leo, sometimes it's hard for me to accept that on some people's list, I am last, and I always will be, irrespective if what I do. (I guess that means we're not friends...)
I digress, but not entirely. I want to matter. personally, and professionally. It's hard to talk about, because it is, on some level, I want people to know that I'm WORTH something. A Lot. A Lot Lot.
It's why I get so pissed off when, at restaurants I get mediocre service. It's the reason behind my annoyance when my ID gets the extra glace over at bars, and it's why I bristle at the extra questions asked of me at my own alma mater's reunions. "I'm GREAT," I want to shout, "HOW COME NO ONE ELSE CAN SEE IT?!"
My craving is insatiable to the point of obnoxious. So hungry am I that I feed off of the sheer awesome of Greatness personified. Every Tiger Woods fist pump, I feel like I too have conquered. With each extraordinary Serena Williams serve, I feel like I too have silenced the naysayers. I feel like I too have triumphed
But when it comes to my own work...well...maybe I should live out my own fantasy.
I should live like every word I agonize over, and every story I tell is the coronation to the throne of some mythical realm called “Awesome." Every song I pen with my brother is gold, and the musicals we're working on is manna from heaven.
Masturbatory? Delusional? Maybe. But I don't know there's any other way of being an artist. Afterall, I. Am. Awesome.
