What
I experienced today is so personal I can't write
about it while thinking it's going to be public. It
makes me cringe to think anyone is going to see this
deep inside me and I know goddamned well that the
"webmaster" in me will never let me lock it. It's such
a fucking internal struggle to do this site.
Godddddddddddd I wish people understood that. I
emote and create from the heart... but my HEAD made
The Journey. I want this to be private, but that's
EXACTLY why my head will put it up - it's an
exhausting battle that I'm not sure how to avoid. Just
needed to be said.
So, to the video -
that to me makes #895 seem like a comedy.
If your computer
can handle it (meaning it doesn't stutter once it's
loaded) click the "HD" button...
incredible.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeew.
I was on the
boat today headed towards the island of Agistri when I
saw a man with a very "greek" type of shirt. White,
nearly see through... very "beachy". My exact
thought-process was this:
"I should
get one. It's ok to buy that now, isn't it? I've done
good enough, right?"
And for some
reason, today, it occured to me just how bizarre that
line of thinking was. It's "journey-thinking". It's
the mode I've been in for a decade as I try to do
everything in my power to make it. It's why my
refrigerator has been off since October... 'cause hey,
$50 a month saved puts me that much closer to paying
my mortgage which allows The Journey to continue one
month longer. It's why every single purchase is
labored over - and honest-to-goodness 95% of what I
buy is to create more art.
But the thing is?
I don't want to be that Adam forever. I know that the
second I get to a certain level... all of that will
relax. I will be kinder to myself. I will allow myself
to breathe. A vacation won't be "The Hail
Mary" to jumpstart my career that this was, it
will be something I absolutely deserve and won't think
twice about. But in my mind, I don't deserve
ANYTHING until I've made it. I am so, so, so hard on
myself.
And as I sat on
the boat thinking about my thought process it
really hit me: I was still a little boy. I
was a boy asking for permission from my mother for
something. My internal voice? Was 10. I actually hear
my voice as a little kid... and it occured to me just
how often he speaks. And the response in my head? It's
my mom. It was a hair-on-your-arms-standing-up moment.
And for the first time ever... I was told it was OK to
buy that shirt. I was good enough to buy, a fucking,
shirt. A shirt that won't help my career, a shirt that
won't create more art, a shirt that isn't replacing
another, older shirt... this was just 'cause I liked
it. I'm worth it.
Whew.
So I get off the
boat, go to this tiny little cove right near where the
ship came in and sit on a rock. No one around. And
there's no holding back. And this was very different.
I mean, when I cried in #895 - it was a Journey
thing. It was the beautiful story of Jess & Adam
that was no longer. It was personal as well, but it
was shared with someone else. This? Was
allllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll me.
Allllllllllllllllllll my issue with self-worth,
self-esteem and being the 10 year old fat kid who
wanted desperately to be attractive to the girls in
his class but was just the class clown. At the time
girls were all I cared about (heh, the more things
change...lol) but that same issue with self-worth and
self-esteem carried over to my talents and my yearning
to make it. And that's yet another thing people
have to understand about all this... and it
gets a new paragraph because of that:
This is not a
story of a guy who believed his whole life and made it
happen. Not at all. It's the fucking opposite. It's
the story of a guy whose HEAD could see the talents
his HEART was producing. His heart was completely
insecure however and only logic made him pursue
it. He listened to the music, after it was written and
recorded, and said - "OK, this is special". He watched
the 4tvs act and said: "OK, this can be more...". And
every, single, step of this Journey has come the exact
same way. A logical brain trying to make sense of
ALLLLL of this shit that the heart kept creating.
'Cause every time the heart started to believe, it was
crushed. If it wasn't for my head? I would NEVER have
come out here. My heart was scared of being hurt. And
when it got hurt? It ran. It hid. But, my head somehow
knew that if I kept going, kept walking... the heart
would keep creating. And my head was right. That
knowledge, that my heart will create even if it's
CRUSHED, is why May 28th happened.
And today? My
heart really got it. That little boy that never
thought he was good enough understood that he was. And
as I sat on that rock (which unfortunately for the
distance replaces "the bench" in sentamentality),
it all came together.
