It’s fine to fail.
I’ve been saying it to myself over and over for the last few hours as I watch old episodes of Elementary whilst painting a portrait of a comedian I admire- quickly burning through a 6 pack of Bud Light with lime(R). My game will be released just a few hours from now. I know that this won’t change anything, really. I’ll probably still be slaving away at my computer, working out my next project, just like I always have.
I just want to really be what I have decided to be for once. Sure, I’ve done some things in my life. My art has gotten me places and recognition. But nothing that I would count as “real success”. Nothing that has allowed me to live the life I want to live. Be independent. Supportive of my girlfriend.
I’ve lived my life as someone who can do the thing no one else can. I can design the website, make the logo, edit the trailer, make the music. I’ve stretched myself so thin over the years- and It’s because I’ve had to. I’m not the greatest artist in the world. Nor the greatest programmer. Nor writer. Nor actor. So I often just pick up the slack.
I’m arrogant. Rude. Sarcastic and, truthfully, it’s been almost purposeful. I like being the “artist” of my friends. They’re teachers, scientists, programmers- I’m the one that draws the pictures- and I like that. I get to be what it is I want to be. Its fun for me.
But, obviously, I’m not truly that person. Its as much a facade as anything. Really I’m still a kid, trying to impress the father that passed away just too soon for me. I let him down so much. I wish I would’ve had the time to prove to him that I’m not just a thief and a liar. That I could really push myself to really do something…something admirable.
I’ve worked so hard, for so long. My best friend (often drunkenly) tells me his dad tells him “You know why AJ is so good at drawing? Because he does it every day.” It’s a nice sentiment. Maybe even inspiring. But not true.
Somedays I’ll wake up inspired and paint something really meaningful. But many days I wake up at 5pm, watch some TV with my girlfriend, and then play DOTA until I can no longer stay awake. I draw still, but usually only for necessity. I’m the master of none in its truest form.
I just realized I forgot to take my antidepressants this morning. I’m drunk and wallowing. Nothing bad has even happened yet.
Positive. Positive things. I have a very privileged life. I am bipolar, but haven’t had an episode in years. I’m very lucky to be where I am. I’m lucky to be able to do the things I really want to do. Having the family that supports me so unconditionally.
No matter what happens, I will press on. And I think that’s all that really matters.