It only took a few years and massive amounts of drugs/alcohol to come to a massive self realization. I’m miserable. But that’s okay, I’ve figured out how to get past it.

The past few years I’ve been pretty miserable. I like to pretend otherwise, but when it comes right down to it I’m not happy. I’ve been incredibly bored. Don’t get me wrong, I love my friends, I love the relationships I’ve formed, no matter how poor I am at maintaining them (that’s a whole other matter I need to work on). But when it comes to the to the things I do purely for my own self-edification, the things where if I were the last person left alive on the planet would bring me joy, I’ve been miserable.

Part of this is due to a severe case of lack of personal motivation and fear of rejection. I have a lot of ideas. There are far more things that I’d love to make, to give a physical representation to (even if in digital form) than I could possibly make in my own lifetime, even ignoring my current skill set. And that scares me. The lack of recreating my mind’s eye doesn’t scare me, as I’ve come to accept the fact that I’m not the most talented artist in the world, and even if I were, I don’t know that I’d be able to recreate exactly what I see in my dreams, hallucinations, and fantasies. The lack of realization is what scares me, more than anything else in the world, to the point of pure insanity due to frustration and raw terror. The lack of of creation. That lack of presenting the ideas. The lack of sharing what I know resonates with other people.

I don’t know know why I’m so scared to share what I think with everyone else. Maybe it’s the massive fear of rejection I have. Of being outcast from whatever group(s) I find I identify with. Maybe it’s just the massive amounts of PBR flowing through my veins as I sit here working on this soon-to-be Brock Samson model in Zbrush. Maybe it’s the massive anxiety I feel as I sit on the verge of a meeting with the head of the Xbox Division of Microsoft (due to my father’s contacts, which distress me on a whole other level and are a whole other set of issues. Yes, daddy issues, lulz) I dunno. I  no longer care. Maybe I’ve finally reached a breaking point and just need to vent. I really can’t pinpoint where this is coming from other than some part of me that has been rubbed raw with frustration and rage.

All I do know is that typing this out has relived me in a deeply satisfying way, and that, to get to the point, I’ve figured out a way to get past all the bullshit baggage I’ve built up over the years. And ironically (as stupid as the word sounds), it comes from multitasking, a process I’ve found extremely convenient and detrimental since I was a small child. What happens when I get bored with a project? I move on to another that I’ve held in the back of my mind forever that I’ve managed to still think was cool all these years later. Maybe it’s just a juvenile way of looking at more mature ideas, but I don’t care. If I can hang on to these ideas this long with this much growth as a human being as I’ve gone through, they must have some merit, and I do believe that everybody has certain fantasies ingrained from childhood that last a lifetime, no matter how hard they may try to deny them. It’s only taken me 22 years to accept them.

I guess for many people 22 years is a short amount of time, but for me it’s a personal hellish eternity. I’m impatient. i don’t like to wait for what, I feel at least, should be an instantaneous development. But I’ve finally come to the point, 12 PBR’s, several bass heavy mixes, and a night of modeling later, that I’ll just have to deal with it. And I’ve come up with a method to do just that.