Mediocrity & The Deep Green Sea

J. W. Waterhouse "NYMPHS FINDING THE HEAD OF ORPHEUS" -1900

I’ve been in that mood lately, going over my life’s accomplishments, my life goals, and figuring shit out. Interesting how much things have changed in the few years since I last had an epiphany of sorts if it may be called that. Also thinking on how much I’ve matured and yet remain the same. Some would say I haven’t matured at all, and that makes me think about these past acquaintances that would say that and where they are now, and how they are still trying to delude themselves into thinking that living in complacency and producing mediocrity is proof that their soul is not dead and that they can still compete with the risk takers, with those of us that have decided to grab life by the balls and fuck it all to shit!

Don’t get me wrong, I have always aligned myself with those that can produce unequaled pieces of creativity, but those that can stand by their convictions and continue even after things start taking turns for the worst, well those are the ones that I consider true friends, and not past acquaintances, and I would stand with them now if they merely asked. Times are tough now though, the world is a shit-hole and everyone in it is out for themselves. At times however, hope shines through the black veil that has engulfed the earth, and small shafts of light pierce the darkness. It gives me optimism in this hedo-masochistic-misogynistic society, although hope is hard to come by if it’s at the end of a gun barrel or the whistle of bombs dropping over your fucking head!

Mediocrity, that’s the poison, the one that infects and convinces you to settle, to stop striving and relax and let the current pull you under, breathe out your last breath and sink into the deep green sea. Screw that shit to hell, it’s sink or swim time, and I am definitely not going down without a fight!

I am not normal, and I never advertised as being so. Others have tried their damnedest to categorize me, to put me in a nice little file where they can further understand me or begin to comprehend why I do the things I do, and they fail. They fail to do so because it’s the one aspect of their lives that they cannot control, the variable, the wildcard. So what have they done? They have tried their hardest to make me the bad guy, to make me the one behind all the woes in their lives, “If only I didn’t know him, everything would have been just as I wanted it.” Or, “Why do you still talk to him? He’s an asshole, the devil, evil incarnate!” Or am I just the reflection of all their wants and desires? Am I what they have always wanted in their lives and yet can never attain? That last part was completely true y the way, an acquaintance’s wife, who I introduced to him, actually said that shit to another friend of mine!

I remember a few years ago, a friend of mine, now an acquaintance, was happily married. I was without concern and without attachments; I truly embodied the poetic archetype of living off the air and the generosity of friends. He, however, was disappointed that he had chosen his path in life and wanted my path. He told me, “I am jealous of you because you truly are a poet; you have adventures, and excitement. You have no care in the world. I wish I had your life.” I responded by telling him that he should be happy because he had the one thing that has always eluded me, peace and love. He added, “Well I’d give that up for your life!” A few months later, he divorced his wife, and she stole his comic book collection (On a side note, this acquaintance is now on his third marriage!). He then started living the proverbial artist’s life, as he had admired the life I lead. He couldn’t take it; he could not live that way, and cursed me for tempting him with it although he had mentioned he would give it all up just to experience it. “How can you live like this?” he said to me. I told him I never pursued it, it just was a natural evolution of my situations, of living as the incarnate word of poetry.

I have suffered tremendously for my art and I do have an Ego about my work, it's healthy to have pride in what one loves and does. I have seen things that no one should see in their lifetime and felt even more. But that was my choice; it was the burden I chose to carry. If I had had my way early in my life I would have married my high school sweet heart and opened up a baby making factory. But that was not the path I chose through my own decisions, we are all products of our decisions, and to blame someone else for the mistakes you have made in your life, or the failed attempts you have sought, well that’s a cop out and a way to not accept responsibility for your actions. Basically you’re a pussy, and you get what you deserve!

Now things are pretty much the same, I am still the word incarnate, but I have apprehensions. I get this feeling that I am running out of time, and that I have to have more determination in my pursuits, and if I fail it will weigh heavier upon my life because of my current situation. This is total mad bullshit, and I have to convince myself that it is wrong to think this way. I have been pummeled by reality, by responsibility, and though I accept responsibility, I do not and will not accept mediocrity! I will continue to do things my way, the right way, and not accept the rumors that I am running out of time and to join the status quo.

So what exactly was I trying to say with this whole diatribe? I dunno…I’m still thinking about swimming or sinking…