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Sometimes its absolutely necessary to sit on a rooftop somewhere in Los Angeles and take stock in things. Even better if there is alcohol involved. Almost a year has passed since I took off from Minnesota. Almost a year since I dropped out of polite society and entered the fantastically uncertain world of the artist trying to make something original. I went to “write a book,” with hardly any understanding of what that means in practical terms. I went to find That Girl, and got kicked in the teeth, repeatedly.
Though this time it doesn’t hurt so bad, and I wonder about that too. Maybe I’ve grown used to it, to her style. Or maybe I’ve just grown up a bit and realize that this is just a slice of life, and that we all struggle together. It hasn’t been the end of the world before, and there’s no reason that it needs to be this time either. That the struggle make us stronger. And that this too, shall pass.
Maybe I’m able to look around and realize that while I don’t have her, and likely never will, I have just about everything in life I could possibly want. I have great friends and family. I’m scraping by while chasing dreams, which is pretty much all I’ve ever wanted out of life. Poverty is my friend, but its not so bad either. The rest will come, now is the time to put in work.
Now is the time to grind through those late nights, those sleepless nights, those miserable nights. Now is the time to be young and adventurous, to take risks, to make things happen. Now is the time to live without regrets and to keep the faith, and allow those good things to come. I know they’re coming. I’ve still got the faith.
Now is the time to Do Epic Shit. To make memories. To stalk those big dreams with giant harpoon spear guns. To look at the hills around the valley and wonder what’s going on in a million homes with a million families and all of their crazy lives. Now is the time to embrace adversity. To fall and get back up, and to do it again. To understand about paying dues and building character. And doing work. Now is not the time to settle for mediocrity, but to keep working, keep struggling, keep writing. To aspire. To inspire. To fail, repeatedly. To smile when it hurts. To smile especially when it hurts.
To keep answering the same fucking questions a million times about how the book is going, but to do so happily, because I’m writing a fucking book! And man, that sure beats the factory, the overnight, the nine to five. To be your own personal hero and inspiration, because everyone else grows old waiting for someone else to come along. To be patient with your mother when she leads off every phone conversation about finding a publisher.
And while our styles might grow weary of being pondered, and our ears may grow tired of straining for the sound of a phone that never rings, we will fight on. I will fight on. And if you’re lucky, as I know I am, it will be possible the sit on a rooftop somewhere in Los Angeles, with a Bloody Mary in hand, and to find that fire inside that keeps us moving forward.
Onwards, my friends, onwards. Let’s get at it this year, and as always, Thank you for reading.