I was flattered, of course, but it didn't sink in on any sort of real level. Compliments don't mean that much to me because if you start accepting the compliments then you have to start listening to the haters, and then you're sunk. Ultimately in terms of creative endeavors you need to hold fast to what you believe in aesthetically and pursue that the best you can. Input is useful, input is great, but ultimately you have to feel it yourself. It has to be internal.
I'm starting to feel it.
No not the huge penis, I have no frame of reference for that, but I feel bigger in other ways*. Like I'm finally starting to grow, as a writer, into the conceptual power I have in my mind. It's nascent, to be sure, I'm still not close to there, but it's starting. All those nights of sitting at the keyboard hating what I was writing but writing it anyway because I believed that some day it would pay off seem to have, in fact, paid off. I'm getting better. I'm looking back on stuff I've written recently and it's actually laugh out loud funny at parts. Not particularly rare parts either. Now it's impossible to rate one's own work in comparison to others because nobody's objective about their own stuff, but mine feels like it's improving and is starting to approach that threshold of being good enough to send out to people who pay for that sort of thing, or at least put it on a fancy looking website whether other people pay THEM for it.
It feels good, and I'm glad I've gotten into a rhythm where I'm actually writing daily for long stretches. There's some serious satisfaction in that in and of itself. Even if I'm not where I want to be right at the moment the fact of my progress suggests that in a year or two I could be, and life is not a sprint. Macaulay Culkin didn't get his start until he was almost 5 years old !
I leave you with something I dashed off in 11 minutes in response to something bluepose wrote. It was funnier at the time, back then not everybody had made 5 billion jokes about this, but I feel like even as it is it's just a few small steps below what The Onion does. And that makes me feel good. About me.
Chicago, Illinois, May 12 2006
Pandemonium here in downtown Chicago after Hollywood actor and nuclear power Russell Crowe detonated a 10 megaton warhead downtown. Witnesses say that Crowe ordered a 'medium' steak but was given one that was 'medium-rare' by mistake. After shoving the face of his 19-year-old waitress into the offending piece of meat and making her eat it while he held her down, Crowe calmly walked out of the restaurant and took a cab to O'Hare. Approximately 20 minutes after his flight took off Crowe's personal bomber squadron unleashed hell upon the city of Chicago. Deaths are estimated to be in the hundreds of thousands, with many more suffering from radiation poisoning and devastating burns. There's no potable water in the metropolitan area right now, and most of the surviving residents are fleeing the carnage. Those left behind will surely die.
When reached for comment Crowe said that he apologizes for anyone he's hurt with his actions, but that maybe it'll teach the city how to cook a steak. As of yet no charges have been filed against Russell Crowe and none are pending. Said Mayor Daly from his deathbed "Russell Crowe is a brilliant actor, and as with many great artists he has a bit of a temper. We should appreciate all the good he's done and understand that occasionally he may act outside the boundaries of OH GOD THE PAI-" Mayor Daly was unable to finish his statement and was pronounced dead 10 minutes later.
Crowe was in Chicago filming his latest project, Windy City, a romantic comedy co-starring Sandra Bullock. The pair played two Chicago publicists who find themselves falling in love while representing two rap artists in the midst of a high-stakes feud.
A spokesman for Warner Brothers stated that the production got all the footage they needed involving the city's skyline before Crowe obliterated it with his nuclear might, and that principal photography was set to begin Tuesday in Toronto, assuming that Canada doesn't extradite Russell Crowe as a war criminal.
*A more apt metaphor would be that I feel like I'm physically growing from my current form, into some sort of comedic GODZILLA. Whereas once I struggled to even cause a small public disturbance I am now starting to lift my giant comedy foot and bring it down on scores of unsuspecting villagers, who look up at the last minute and shout "GOJIRA! GOJIRA!" I know what you're thinking. That's a HORRIBLE metaphor. It really is. It makes no sense and it's vaguely offensive. But that's how good I am. I can use that kind of ENTIRELY INAPPROPRIATE metaphor and make it look good on me. Sometimes. Not this time. No...that didn't work. BEHOLD, THE POWER OF CHEESECAKE!