To Die Trying...

So, yeah...I've written about "Owning Excuses And Failure" (Part One) and (Part Two).

And I don't really know what's happened to me...I used to be much more fearless than I am these days. And I don't like it. I don't like it one bit.

I mean really, what the F is the big deal? What the hell am I afraid of?

So, what has me shaking in my platform flipflops? The experiences of my predecessors? Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but THIS looks like something to be afraid of:




Dude...If you remember ONE THING from "Titanic", it should be Rose telling Jack, "I'll never let go...I'll never let go, Jack. I'll never let go..." And dude? Like that no-good lying, trollop Rose, you let go.


Or maybe this;


"Sven? Those really aren't the balls that we're supposed to be kicking. K? But, thanks. Thanks a lot. I suppose that I'll go fill out one of those applications for the Vienna Boys Choir now."


Or this;


All aghast, is she pointing to his faux right nipple? Or to the rest of the disaster that's attached to it? And he actually might be pretty if he weren't...you know, a bloated, fur-covered line-backer.


Or this;


I hate it when I roll a car and no one else was even involved.


Definitely this;


Uummm...let me guess...Britney pre-waxed and with pronounced labia strategically getting out of her Maserati in front of the paparazzi? No? Well, then whoever it is has GOT to be blind. Or fucking retarded. Or both. Dude, the least you could've done was tuck your right testicle. Why the Lilly-living FUCK do you think you look good in this??


And MOST definitely this;


Sweety? You're on your own...such as. And for your sake, I hope that you can give tremendous blow-jobs...such as.


I was talking with a friend about a month back while we were at a party. She's just fantastic. She has the energy of 1000 horses, but yet in one of those centered kind of ways.


All 1000 horses galloping in the same direction with the same destination in mind...without stopping to graze or drop big pies or kick you in the head when you're not looking kind of deal. They're on a focused mission to some far away lofty field on a high grassy knoll where they can roam and frolic with a regalness that can only belong to such a divine creature.

I was lamenting the lack of focus and motivation that I've been feeling in regards to my one-person play. I told her that I just couldn't seem to get it together. That there was "no inspiration like a deadline" and that no one was breathing down my neck to get things done. And that I just kept floundering. I told her that if I thought about it as objectively as I could, I would say that I was stalling for fear of failure. At least I thought that's what it probably was...

I was FULL of excuses. And she was having NONE OF IT.

And she grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me (to my dismay, she didn't bitch-slap me, which is usually my preferred form of communication). She looked me dead in the eyes and said, "NO! FAILURE IS NOT EVEN TRYING. IF YOU DON'T ASK, YOU DON'T GET. AND IF YOU DON'T TRY, YOU WON'T KNOW. AND NOT TRYING IS JUST GIVING UP...WHICH LEADS TO REGRETS. AND PEOPLE USUALLY DON'T REGRET THE THINGS THAT THEY'VE DONE, THEY REGRET THE THINGS THAT THEY HAVEN'T DONE. NOT TRYING IS FAILURE. THAT is failure. July 15th. That's your deadline. Now, get busy."

And I almost pissed my pants. I almost pissed her pants. And I was close to pinching a dookie in my trousers as well.

But, she's right. Regardless if I can get my wits together or not, not even trying IS failure. It's giving up. And as of yet, I've never given up on anything.

Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I see myself as a little timid creature, a little apprehensive and weary, I see myself as



little.


But, I think that I may be in need of an image over-haul. I think that it's time that I keep that heart of mine, but I might have to alter the perception that I have of myself




and roar just a little bit...Maybe a lot.

Or at least, I should TRY.