I can do this.
I can move through my perfection paralysis and write this thing. I can try to channel my ‘flow’, show my ADHD (official diagnosis pending) the middle finger and write a bunch of words on a website, and hit, Publish.
Because what’s the worst that would happen anyway?
No one reads these days.
All I know is, I’m inspired. I have spent way too much time hiding behind my need to be perfect, and the compulsive control that has come as a freebie with my trauma, and I am tired and if Mark Zuckerberg, can have the ‘ZuckonIt’ I can write a few words and publish them.
It may be a man’s world but the universe listens to women.
Another reason I don’t write though, is also the reason I paused for 2 minutes after writing that dramatic, possibly untrue (who knows, reality is what you make of it) one-liner which is: Creative Theft. I am scared that my perception, the perception of my art won’t be a 100% like I imagined and wanted it to be and if you were to ask the universal therapist — ChatGPT (just because I have an em dash, doesn’t mean this was AI generated by the way; I can assure me it’s all pure Human maggi fueled 4 am chaos. God I can’t wait for the day ‘Pure Human’ becomes something problematic to say because AI Personas have successfully ingrained themselves very, very deeply into our societal thread — ) this is just my deep fear of being misunderstood and later, abused for it manifesting in the best possible way.
This is nowhere near enough, I gotta keep going.
So, survival: Has 4 distinct reactions — Flight, Fight, Freeze, and Fawn.
I — a soon to be 23-year old, Self Employed, Tech Entrepreneur/Amateur Performer who is pre-seed, pre-revenue, pre-anything that gives me the right to brag on Linkedin (lies, I’m not pre-launch and I have bragged multiple times on Linkedin — ) have categorically been stuck in Freeze because every single entrepreneur was absolutely right when they said entrepreneurship is harder than it looks, and you might not be as maniacal as me to even be slightly interested in it, so I’ll tell you: It looked pretty hard. That’s what attracted me towards it in the first place. That and the promise of autonomy ofcourse.
And I am. Very autonomous.
Having a team, losing a team. Having a CTO, not having a CTO, finding another CTO, who also isn’t sure if he wants to stay a 100%. All while studying 12 hours a day and working on fixing said Functional Freeze without falling violently ill — perks of Entrepreneurship, aided by a lifetime of over-achieving, i.e., over-working, 0 balance — SCREAMS Autonomous Perfection.
I love it.
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I cry everyday but I love it.
Like Lenny Bruce in the second episode of first season of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, I too would do anything else in the world to make a living if I could. I can’t. Not without losing my spirit and going completely insane. And while I might go completely insane regardless, that Ladies and Kids, is how you identify: A Calling.
Autonomy. Sovereignty. Random Confessions so late into the day it’s early morning on a blog no one is going to read.
The ability to watch a piece of art and allow it to move you so profoundly, you start to colour the rest of your life — one you didn’t even dare dream could happen until a few months back — with glorious purpose.
I am a storyteller.
I observe. I find problems. I try to solve them so someone somewhere can talk in a big-suited-up meeting about increasing shareholder value, so I can move some money into my corner in this capitalist hellscape (where apparently, Trump now has a golden statue of him holding a Bitcoin outside the US Capitol, no it’s not fake, yes I checked. 3 times.) to make art in a world on fire.
I observe. I feel. I write about it.
Now, magically on a website that has a pretty green Publish button and not just in the dark cells of an excel sheet.
This was fun.
Arrivederci.
