Shame on those around whom Cash Rules Everything
Life as a quirked-up shawty shouldn't be so rough
“Ol’ Dirty Bastard live and uncut —styles unbreakable, shatterproof — to the young youth, you wanna get gun? Blaow! How you like me now?”
It's tempting to think that there's nothing we can do. Watching the future unfold before our eyes it seems like we have to melt into our defined fates within capitalism and corporate culture.
Several of my friends have resigned their platforms to participating in corporate sponsorship. I've watched their trajectories, as we started in the same place. I took a different route. I rejected the conformity required to get to the place where they find themselves brandishing watches, Lysol products ,Vicks vapor rub, and other grifts that they would not consider grifts. I been there in a sense, done that, respect it very little. But I understand it. My only advice: Get in and out like a robbery before you start to become the pursuit.
As I search for a home for my work, I'm torn. I've been walking down a traditional path, putting forth traditional ideas: blog posts on academic non-profits, magazine and news outlet articles, a book proposal for a traditional publisher. But none of it feels right.
I have another friend who has self-published many books. (If you're reading this, I'm sorry. This is awkward, but I Stan.) He's put forth his work seemingly unfettered. Not that he doesn't seem to put care into what he does, but he doesn't seem to care what people think of what he puts forth.
I'm in awe of him. He is an adjunct professor, not a glorious job in any way. I think he's recently scored some grants from Canada. They love an academic, and in social sciences you don't need a $250,000 piece of equipment to do your work. You just say s***, and I think that's what I find so amazing.
I've never really thought anything I have to say is of any importance. I'm coming to find that my self esteem has been in the shitter since before I can even remember. I've always thought I oscillate between arrogant and self-deprecating, but it would appear that I'm mostly self-deprecating. Underneath the self-deprecation I think I'm kind of cool, but only kind of. And I'm not really sure of that. I'm trying to be sure of it. Because if I don't believe in myself no one else will, and even if it's all an illusion it feels good to believe in something.
I suppose I do have things to say, and that's what I can do. Say shit. I'll play this corporate game a little further and see where it goes, but I've been told by several agents that I'm "quirky" Or "interesting" and that I need an advocate that fully sees my vision. That's funny, because even I only get glimpses of clarity into my own thoughts. Who the fuck is going to “see my vision” besides me?
Moral of the story: a common mantra I tell myself is in order: say what you have to say and worry less about who is listening. Oh and honestly f*** Canadian biotech shark tank. That s*** is dry with no sauce whatsoever.
As I've established, I don't like to edit. Here especially, I feel like what I say in the moment might be crude, but I mean it when I'm saying it. I dictated this into my phone, so maybe it's not fully flushed out, but that's why it's important to capture as is, raw, unedited. I only read it back once it's published, and then I change nothing except punctuation or grammatical errors.