Embrace Your Artistic Neuron.

By now, you are probably used to my depressed shit filled self. So much so that I don't need to moan and bitch like a baby on the blog. I said I would never turn to this blog when I am depressed and yet invariably I tend to turn to this blog ONLY when I am depressed. I don't know if that is such a bad thing.  My dilemma today is self loathing and uncertainty.  About every single fucking thing in my life. It scares the shit out of me.

When I was tiny, weeping as a just born, little did I know that I was blessed and cursed with a mind that would love weirdness and would see the world differently. Now a days, I seriously don't know if it's a big blessing or a big curse. I have no reason to doubt it. Just like my friends, the artistic neuron in my mind has never betrayed me. I have no reasons to doubt it. But sometimes, when your thoughts, when your efforts and your world of passionate love for your work becomes awfully quite and fucking lonely, these feelings creep in your head and fuck with it.

I was recently asked if I want to talk about it. I said no. I have no idea why the Heck I said that, but I did. Actually, I was trying to find humor in this situation. Which is why I wanted to be quite. I think I figured it out.

I mean think about it. Its pretty darn fucking funny. Seriously, it is funny.

So here is how it works in your profession. You probably work somewhere and get paid for whatever it is that you do. Then you come home, eat, shit and depending on a whole of other factors do a whole lot of weird and down right funny things and then you sleep, only to get up next day and get to work so that you can eat, shit and do a whole lot of weird things the next day. Life is good. Fucking Good.

Except of course, there is this one little neuron in your head that whispers and calls you with a strange voice and just says, "Psst! Are you happy? I mean REALLY happy? REALLY REALLY HAPPY?". And then before you know you are fucked. This neuron is a gorgeous part of your mind. It fucked with people's head and made their life miserable which is why they ended up building stuff like planes and light bulbs and buildings and computers. Its the artist within you. Dying to ship. Dying to build something. Dying to share it with other monkeys around you. Dying to be proved right. Dying for acceptance.

Again, this is all nice and dandy, but the problem with this neuron is that the moment you start listening to it, you have taken the fucking RED pill and now Morpheus is just showing you how deep the rabbit hole is. You are going to spend hours making your mind and body hurt as you work on something that you absolutely love working on. You are going to deliver, only to find out that world does not give a fuck about what you just built. And then you are going to think about quitting. And then this neuron is going to whisper, "Pssst!" 

And you know you are not supposed to be listening. But you will. And you will try to tweak what you just built. You are going to read marketing books on how to get this idea through. Books on how to make it tip. How to make it cross the chasm. You are going to be fucked all over again. And if you thought this was the end of it, you are so fucking wrong.

You are going to do this for a few months and then you are going to learn that while you were busy talking to this one little neuron in your head the world was moving around the sun and completing one circle in about 365 days and a rotation in about 24 hours and the other monkeys around you, who were able to "Shhh!" to this weird neuron got on with their lives just fine. These monkeys think you are a jerk. You think, they are jerks. But at the end of it all both of you are just monkeys.

You are going to make it. Or you are going to fucking die trying. Either ways, I've got no sympathy for you.  Because you deserve none. In the part of the world where I live cars squat stray dogs on the road every once in a while and I feel really sorry for them, because they know nothing about the mess they are going to land up with. You do. You know absolutely fucking well, what you are getting into when you listen to that artistic neuron in your head. You take a chance. You do it because you want love and acceptance. And you want LOTS of it. Just a little bit does not do it for you. So you go out there and you take a fucking chance.

And then on bad days, you whine and moan and bitch and crib and write posts like this one. But that's not going to change anything. Your artistic neuron is what defines you. It's what got you so fucking far. It's your biggest blessing. Embrace it. And let it fuck with your head. Oh and by the way, stop worrying about the confirmation part as much as you do. We are probably the only creatures on this planet who worry so much about external confirmation, when other creatures are just ok in being there.

So stalker! If you were a little depressed, I may have depressed you even more. But who cares! Your artistic neuron is going to take over soon and it will continue to make your life fucking miserable.

You are blessed with it. Embrace it. Hug it.  Love it. And do what it tells you to do.

Enough bitching. Now I am going to continue working.

The Road Not Taken.

I'm seriously mad. I was mad on a couple of friends but then after a long conversation with one of the friends I realized this week that the fault had been mine all along. I wasn't mad at them. I was just mad at a few choices I made when I was young. I think I am paying a heavy price for those choices. But then I am also reaping the rewards of those choices. I cannot be blaming anyone else other than myself for those choices. I cannot be crying like a baby when it's time to pay the price for my choices.

The problem with moving too fast is that when you often turn around you realize that you have come too far and that you left a few opportunities of having fun along the way. Not because you did not like having fun. No, you actually fucking loved it. But then you were supposed to move fast. At least that is what you had told yourself. Now the problem with moving really fast is that when you are walking fast you often tell yourself that you are going to come back later and finish a few unfinished items. Unfortunately, it is almost always a one way street. And by the time you realize that, you have come too far to turn back.

When I started writing here I told myself that I was not going to write here when I was angry, sorry, depressed or was going through any other negative feeling. So I did not write here about this feeling of mine till I had the long conversation yesterday where I, to a large extent allowed myself to forgive myself for the choices I made in the past. I didn't have an option. Given the same circumstances and the same options I would have made the same choices again. I tried my fucking best. That is all I could have done. I fucked up in a couple of places, but then heck with it! Who doesn't.

There are way too many dreams that I have been having lately. Most of them I don't even have the balls to talk to about on this blog. The only thing that is keeping me letting me retain any amount of sanity what so ever in this time is the fact that I have a couple of REALLY AWESOME friends who are standing tall and confidently by me in these difficult times. Without them I would have done something stupid. That and knowing deep down in the darkest corners of my heart that I tried my fucking best.

I have no idea about what I am talking any more. I am tired. Feeling a little sick. Tired and my body hurts. So I am just going to shut up and try to sleep.