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For(eclosure) The Birds

It is one of my dreams to own a home.

But this will probably never happen because of the way the economy is, especially for people in their 20s, and the housing market in general. Growing up, my mother was always moving us from place to place to escape my father. When she remarried, we moved again. When my parents divorced 12 years later, we moved again. We moved multiple times after high school and on. Because of the amount of moving I’ve had to endure while growing up, I’ve never felt like I had a home. So many young people eventually move away and yearn for their childhood home. I don’t have a childhood home. Because of this, it makes my want for my own house even more intense, and yet it scares me because I worry even then, when I own a home, that I won’t feel at home.

People talk alot about needing both parents, about needing a stable family, all these things to grow up. First of all, you can have a single parent and turn out fine. You can even have a family that’s a bit unstable and turn out fine. I think the one that a child needs is a home. If a child never feels like they belong somewhere, like they belong where they live, then they’ll never feel comfortable or at home anywhere they go their entire life. It’s just another thing for me to chock up on my list of ‘why I’m screwed in life’. The closest I’ve ever felt to home was my girlfriend and I living at her parents for the past year. But think about that. I’m 26 and that’s the closest a home has ever felt to me. And this isn’t one that I can easily rally against and rise up from. This one makes me feel unwelcome anywhere and everywhere. Apartments I inhabit, homes I wish to buy, anywhere, they all come with a “for limited time guarantee” in my mind because I always end up having to leave after a while. That’s not a very good feeling to live with.

What’s worse is that this feeling of not belonging anywhere also extends to people. I always feel people are going to leave. When you grow up with loss and rejection and change being such an enormous part of your upbringing, it makes you cautious and wary of everyone around you. When people leave so easily so often, when you never feel like you’re going to be staying in one place too long, you start to block yourself off from everyone and everywhere. Why bother getting comfortable, feeling safe, when people and places are going to go away? It’s a real problem I’m still trying to get past.

It is one of my dreams to own a home.

Unfortunately, like most dreams, they don’t come true.

 

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The Art Of Self Hatred

“You have to learn to love yourself”.

Let me tell ya somethin’, if I had learned to love myself, I wouldn’t be where I am creatively and artistically today. There’s something to be said for self hatred and deprecation. It forces you to look at yourself, go ‘yeah, I DO suck at this’ and then because you feel so bad, you start to try harder. At least this has been my experience. A lot of times, simply saying negative things gets them out of your head so they don’t swim around and continue to cast self doubt inside you, and that’s therapeutic. But by seeing my own work, I realize how fucking terrible it is and I want to be better at it than I currently feel that I am. Hatred is a great motivator.

It also helps when everyone else hates you too, because then you just want to prove THEM wrong as well. Sure, there’s a lot of times it has the opposite effect. A sort of ‘well if everyone else thinks I suck and I think I suck then why the hell continue?’ sort of thought process, but to be honest, that’s gotten less and less prevalent over the years when compared to the thought process of ‘I’m going to be better at this’. And hatred isn’t just a great motivator for yourself, it’s also a great motivator for other things too. Take murder for example. To decide, plot, and commit a murder…that takes dedication. And I don’t know about you, but my parents always told me ‘if you don’t like somebody, just ignore them’. Good rule of thumb to live by. But murder is the opposite. You have to REALLY hate somebody in order to spend that much time dedicating an idea to ending their life. First you have to hate the person, then you have to decide to spend all of your time plotting out how to kill this person, then you have to actually carry out the act OF murder. By the time you’re incarcerated you’ve spent more than enough time dwelling on somebody you fucking hate than doing anything constructive at all. As I said, even in the worst possible ways, hatred is a great motivator. It got you up off the couch, and into a penitentiary.

In my first post, I talked about success and failure. The two often co-mingle and aren’t necessarily exclusive. Say you write a screenplay, it gets made into a feature, but it makes little to no money. Is that success or is that failure? It’s both. You got the damn thing made, which is successful, and the it flopped, which Hollywood sees as failure. This theme ties into the idea of success and failure. Hatred of myself has motivated me to do better at the things I do for a living. I wrote two books. Success. Nobody has read them. Failure. But is it failure? Failure’s a broad term, because it can be defined many different ways by many different people. Failure is a matter of perspective. Just because your movie flopped and Hollywood or the studio sees it as a failure, doesn’t mean you should. YOU MADE A MOVIE! The act of creating art is the sole purpose of art. Not to gain monetary value. I’m not saying if somebody were to e-mail me and say they’d like to sponsor this blog and pay me millions of dollars and let me have sex with tons of billions of runway models that I’d say no, I mean I’m a hypocrite, but in the end, the act of writing this blog itself IS the reason for the blog. If I got paid for it, sure it’d be a nice incentive, but it’s not why I’m doing it.

I’m writing this blog because I hate myself.

I hate myself because it makes me want to try harder to like myself.

It’s a tough line to walk.