Thursday, September 22, 2011

Don't Try This at Home

I was having dinner, when this irrational fear gripped me. It was a sudden hit. Most days, I see it, tip my proverbial hat, and walk on.

I'm not sure if I can explain it right. My business, it's a lot like wrestling. It's also a lot like mountain climbing.

You climb, each year is a notch or a hold on the rock. You lower some rope sometimes, cause there are times when the only way you can get up is if you can grab onto a rope. And you always, always pay it forward.

Sometimes, you take a breather, or your head just angles itself down, and you realise how far you've gone. This is when all those things come out.

Writing's a lot like wrestling. Professional wrestling, not 'real' wrestling.

In this business, entertainment/lifestyle writing, in scriptwriting, book-writing, you do shit, right? You write shit up, and sometimes they love you for it, and sometimes they hate you. For the exact same shit.

They call me 'not a real journalist' cause I don't do crime or report on serious shit.

Some people call my work in the field of entertainment bad-ass. Some, just bad. Others, ass.

I made my peace with that a long time ago. Good or bad, it's not my place to convince them otherwise. Only those who have dared to walk in these here shoes would understand what it's all about. Like I don't know what the fuck is in everyone else's heads and shit.

The voices, the praises and condemnations, those things won't matter, if you give them enough time.

And hell, yeah, I reported on court cases as well. I followed a Prime Minister, briefly. I did my share of crime and business. Tried magazines for a while. I tried TV.

I haven't gone to a war-torn country with a bullet on my back. I don't want to. Hats off to those who did. I know two. If the company offered or ordered me to, I'd go. Not because I'm brave, but because I'm curious, that's all.

So it wasn't that. It wasn't the fact that I got two movies coming out and working on two more. Two, maybe three books with deadlines looming. Nope.

Not my current job.

So what got me so fucking emo? It's a pattern. Every time my life goes smooth sailing, I always get scared. Cause my normal approach is to hit at something until it stops moving. Nowadays, it is way more complicated than that.

Sometimes, growing up means you deal with more and more complex shit.

My girlfriend offered help, and attention, but I just wanted to be alone. I deal with my own demons. Thankfully, most of my demons are made up. I am my own worst enemy.

So I got myself writing. I'm not saying what, cause if I say it, I'll lose interest.

I got myself writing, and I am a vagabond again. I walk the earth again. And in this, I will never change.