I am writing this because I have to, because “If you don’t have to write, you shouldn’t be writing.”
I don’t remember where I got this quote so it may not be righteous to add it here. The people in my head tell me you should give credit where credit is due. I looked it up on the internet and couldn’t find the author, so perhaps I thought of it myself.
Nonetheless, I think that the author who said that meant that people who are not deeply moved by the act of writing should do something that they are deeply moved by, but I think when I heard the quote it had something to do with the idea that if you are not in need of the money received from writing then you are too pompous to write anything of consequence.
I am currently recalling a manic episode I had a number of years ago when the ghost of Hunter S. Thompson told me, “It’s media, you know… Me to ya!” During this manic trip I was also hanging out with a bunch of invisible people, including what I began to believe was three Buddhist Lamas in meditation who I thought were one sainted Dalai Lama that I could not see. Mania is like this when it goes unchecked, so make sure you don’t begin to believe your own blessed bullshit. One cool thing from that trip was the idea that my soul had a different age than my body, that I was much older than I thought I was at the time.
In fact, that is not the only time the ghost of a character from the 60’s that has visited my deranged mind. A long time ago, when I was just a young rapscallion, I had a dream that I was partying and playing music with Jerry Garcia, which ended with the two of us shooting lightning bolts from our guitars while sitting atop a lamp post outside what became my favourite place to play music for about eight years. The weird thing about this dream was that I was not yet playing music and hanging around that block, but the dream inspired me to begin to hang around an open mic that moved to two different places before leaving the city block from my dream.
Mania is sometimes a righteous outlet for happiness and belief, but I once heard that people will begin to create delusions of grandeur because they don’t feel like they are being heard. It is like they are not happy with who they are so they create a reality within which they have some sort of fame, special trait or secret knowledge that makes them one of the most important people in the world.
It is a pain in the ass to fall into these thoughts and it seems that I go into these manias without feeling any more terrible about myself than I usually do. The last major manic episode I had including the idea that I was traveling from Pluto (where I obviously live) but was not yet on Earth so I could not be hurt. I was sent here to save the world from genocidal maniacs in out of place governments. This was quite a while ago now. I think it was mostly because I had not taken my medication for at least six months and just sat around trying to perform magic for weeks. I think that not understanding magic and trying to create magic realms to damn genocidal maniacs through art can backfire.
Thinking of mania often leads me to depression. There is a sad thought I have when I remember waking up feeling like every dream I ever had was true and I was a world renowned musical sorcerer of some kind. This lead eventually to me being admitted to the psych ward and finding out that I was just a sad and lonely person creating fantasies because I didn’t like my state at the time. It was clear to my neighbors, because I was screaming about the Devil and terrified that George Bush was going to come and kill me for the secret knowledge I had.
I think the thing to remember is that when we are afflicted with these sorts of problems we must try to take care of ourselves. I have been quite depressed lately, which is why I am taking so much time to write and discover my feelings. I should be doing something in exchange for money but I am lost in the world. The thing that I try to explain to people is that I just cannot function like the rest of humanity. It was a series of painful interactions that lead me to this belief. I keep trying to do the best I can do but it doesn’t ever seem good enough for the real world. I am ashamed to say that I haven’t been working, but in a way, I have been working harder than usual. Sometimes it is important to heal so you don’t wind up crazed out there in the streets or something worse.
I wish I felt better than I have for the last week or so. I am concerned with myself. I was worried that I did not have any opinions because I have a hard time saying what I want from the world. It seems to be that I do not know what I want from the world, but in truth, I have just been trained from youth that asking for what you want is not the way to get what you want.
I was belittled and made fun of by people that I looked up to when I was young, so I still hear their voices in my subconscious when I do things like try and ask for what I want or say what I want to do with my life. It took me 20 years of creating art to begin to call myself an artist because I was ashamed of myself. That is a serious subconscious issue that needs to be dealt with. I kind of feel the same way about writing and it is nearly all that I do these days. It is difficult to ask for money in exchange for stuff that you are ashamed about, no matter how good it is. I think that essence permeates my work, too. People can tell that I don’t value my work so they refuse to find value in it.
It is hard to understand my path. I struggle with these impulses to do what I feel is valuable. I think these words will help someone who is having the same kind of time that I am so I want to write them and leave them here. Welling in my unconscious is the thought from my childhood that my opinion doesn’t matter and that nobody cares what I think. It is difficult to create media with this over-reaching thought, but like the paradox that I am, it is all I want to do with my time. I hope that these works I am creating make you feel better than you did when you started reading them. I really want to add some kind of insight to the world.