I Swear This is Not a Suicide Note

So when I started writing this article it was really bad. I usually dislike my writing but this one made me hate myself a little more than normal. I started using dumb metaphors and allegories and just gushed like a emo kid. It was livejournal styled bullshit introspection whining and I’m glad none of you fuckers will ever read it because I don’t want you looking down on me anymore than you probably do. And I feel like some will be earned because I’m writing this because I failed. I failed, I failed hardcore.

I disagree, image macro.

Two months ago I made an announcement that I was headed off to LA to intern for a theater company. Big change, big move, big fucking deal. Oh my god, I thought, this is it! This the time I start livin’ the dream, boo ya, can’t stop me now. I’m the bright eyed country ingénue headed to the big city to be a star!

Holy fuck was I an idiot. Two months! Two fucking months, is that not the most pathetic thing in the world? First my cousin whom I’m staying with has to kick me out because of a lease agreement (not his fault) then my uncle whom I’m staying with says he can’t keep me around either. Apartment hunting? Rent money? What? What the fuck are you talking about? That might work if not every job I applied to was either a marketing scam or just wasn’t interested. Oh, and my internship got put on hold. Two months, most of which was spent fucking around on my laptop because I didn’t know anyone.

So yeah, I thought I could go off and start trying to break into the film industry but now I head back to Arizona drunker and smellier than before. And you know what? I’m glad. I’m glad this happened. I’m glad California kicked my ass. I’m glad all my prospects dried up. I’m glad that I’m going back to Arizona completely unemployed with student loan debt and a useless major. I’m glad that everyone I was a dick to can lord this over me for fucking ever. Basically, I’m glad I failed.

I remember hearing older people talk about how our generation isn’t allowed to fail. In way they’re right, a lot of effort these days is made to make sure kids are 100% on the right track at all times. It’s why we’re all pushed into college, we have to go college and get a good job and a meet a nice person and raise children and have three by age 30 and so on and so on. I’m not criticizing the mindset, I don’t even think it’s necessarily bad. It occurred to me though I’ve never tried for something and then failed to get it.

I’m a lazy person, I’m nowhere near as ambitious as my ego demands. I went to college because I didn’t wanna stick around and do nothing. Even out of high school I thought I wanted to be an actor, but the thought of pursuing it scared me and I was deathly afraid of just going out and getting swallowed whole by the big scary world. So I went to college because that was the “fall back”. Even then I didn’t chose a theater major at first, I was undeclared and for a while I even thought that maybe I’d try something different, that maybe acting and all that was just a phase in high school that I’d grow out of. Eventually I just kind of wound up in the Theater major because that was what I did, and it was there. I graduated, and then nothing.

I moved back home and it took months before I could find a job at fucking Blockbuster. The whole time I was there I was a blob, always thinking about moving on and doing something more but never doing it. I never did a thing other than hope and just pitter around, hoping something would pop up. Eventually I saw a random ad online through an internship site. The ad was for a theater internship in LA. I sent my resume and farted out a bullshit cover letter and forgot about it. It was my bare minimum of the day so that I wouldn’t feel shitty about sitting at home at my computer all day. Fate, I thought, then collided and the Blockbuster I worked at shut down and the internship wanted me. When that happened something changed, I got off my ass and did something. I went to LA, I left my home and into the big city. And then….it fell through.

This has nothing to do with this article, but I needed to break up the text with something.

Two months, that’s all the time I was given. At first I kept thinking that this made no sense. I thought, it seemed like fate had pushed me here but then it just yanked it away. That’s when the bitter atheist in me spoke up, and by god he made so much said.

He said “This wasn’t fate, or destiny or God, this was you. This was action, this was choice. This was you fucking doing something. Yes, you failed, but you fucking did it and now you can it again.”

“Do what again?”

“Fucking deciding for yourself, taking control of your life. Just fucking doing something? You did a thing, now you know you can do another thing. And if you fail, then you can try another thing.”

“Can I still try and be a writer?”

“Yes! Fucks sake you’re only 24. Didn’t you read Dylan’s post on the quarterlife crisis?”

“I don’t really read the other writer’s stuff, I just skim for the dick jokes.”

The conversation went on like that but the point is that…..actually I don’t know. I think at this point I’m supposed to make a point. Honestly, I was just venting mostly, I wanted to get my thoughts out over this whole thing. I guess if I’ve learned anything, it’s that failure sucks, but it’s not the end of the world. I don’t have anything other than that to say. I’m glad this happened to me and I’m glad I failed.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get drunk and scream at episodes of The Walking Dead.

I agree image macro....I so fucking agree.