fear

I've got to start updating this damn thing more often. Otherwise, how will I ever become known as the most Gangsta-Ass Blogga of all the Blogga's in the known universe? I ask you. I ask you? Blogga, please...

OK. So far, so good.

Let's talk about fear. Fear has motivated me to do absolutely nothing for a long time now. In fact, I'm afraid to continue writing about this very subject. Why? Because admitting the truth hurts. It doesn't hurt just me. It would hurt a few others too. At least I think it would. But I'll never know, because I'm afraid to find out.

That kinda sums up my life, and why I haven't done much of anything since college: I'm afraid to find out things. In particular, what I'm capable of achieving (writing/directing-wise, health-wise, relationship-wise, etc). I'd rather play it safe and sit around all day eating, working a dead-end job, etc. And I don't understand why other people aren't as afraid as I am. I don't know how they do what they do. How can they trust someone enough to marry them, raise children with them. Don't they know they'll only get their heart broken? Don't they know their spouse will cheat on them? Don't they know that one day their children will turn on them, resent them, hate them, and worst of all, disappoint them? How do people get over that fear? Or do they even have that fear? Am I the only one?

I've been told I'm crazy. Of course, the person telling me I'm crazy was one of the people who helped drive me crazy in the first place. I don't doubt for a minute that there's something wrong with me, that somewhere along the line, a switch that shouldn't have been switched went off in my head. Other people don't let fear rule their life. Other people don't sit and eat until their almost 3 times heavier than the average man. So yes, I guess I am crazy. Thanks for noticing.

Crazy or not, I've got to make some changes. The same changes I've been blogging on and off about for the last few months. If my health doesn't turn around, I'm a dead man. If I turn my health around, but don't get my creative juices flowing again, then I'm still a dead man. Emotionally, anyway. Oh, did I mention that I'm easily overwhelmed? Which usually leads to fear: "How am I going to get all of this done?". And fear always leads to...nothing. Nothing. What's the point? Do nothing, eat something.

I've GOT to do something.

Tomorrow is Sunday. I'm going to achieve TWO things on Sunday. The first thing is I'm going to take the trash out. I won't go into details, but let's just say I've been putting this off for far too long. Second thing is, I've been putting off the Master Cleanse for a long while now. Tomorrow afternoon, I'm getting the ingredients to start on it sometime during the upcoming week. I'll need herbal tea, lemons, maple syrup, etc. Sure, it's a harsh thing to do to a fella who's used to eating his troubles away, night after night. These are harsh times, though. I need to learn discipline. I need to remember there are consequences to all of my actions, whether I'm eating too much, or standing a friend up, or breaking my word, etc. I am a man. Well, I should be a man. But I act like a child. That's a hard pill to swallow, and a tough fact to admit. But it's the truth.

And like I said before, admitting the truth sure does hurt.

But there are other truths to consider. I am a talented writer and performer. I am a good person who wants to do good things for others. I have the ability to make people laugh. The only thing that hurts in regards to these truths is the fact that I have all but hidden them from the world. Except for the making people laugh part. I've used (and sometimes abused) that ability for too long. I'm tired of hiding the rest of my good qualities, using my bad health and morbid obesity as an excuse to sit on my ass and rot while the world keeps on spinning, and friends and family keep on living, with or without me.

I'm done saying what I'm going to do, I'm done saying what I'm going to stop doing. It's time to do. It's time to be. No fear. So I'm going to post this blog entry, even though I'm afraid it's too rambling, and it doesn't make sense. What if Mark Twain had said that after he'd written "The Adventures of Huckelberry Finn"? Yeah, that's right, I am totally comparing myself to Mark Twain. Because that's how I roll. From now on.

Blogga, please...