Cheese Monster

Let me think about the people who I care about the most. And how when they fail or disappoint me I still love them, I still give them chances, and I still see the best in them. Let me extend that generosity to myself -- Ze Frank

I’ve been playing with this blank page all day. Not literally, because there isn't a page for me to play with, nor is there even a blank document with a blinking curser - designed to send me into oblivion.

No, the mental block of writing space has only existed inside my head.

I mentally comb through ideas, one-by-one.

Mulling them over, chucking them out, realizing that their scope or focus isn't something I'm really interested in.

Then I see this video (the one that quote is from moron)  And I'm torn everywhichway in about a million different directions.

I'm both inspired beyond belief and life crippling sucked dry.

Here’s Ze, talking about his new project, scared to death about what he’s assembling, but ready to take on the challenge. He shouts from the - internet equivalent - rooftops about how ready/not-ready-OMG-I’m-sick-with-fear he is!!!

I WANT TO BE THAT PERSON, I *AM* that person!!!

But... But... I'm not Ze Frank.

I'm not inspirational, and magnificent, and talented, and creative beyond belief.

I can't spin a line that makes me want to cry with its beauty.

When did my inspirations stop becoming inspirations and start becoming these sadistic little modules of self hatred I could pelt at myself??

His success only reminds me where I'm falling short.




And that my friends, is REMARKABLE.





Remarkable???

Yes. Remarkable.




How can the human being be so fragile that the inspiration of one might mean the demolition of another??!

I'm not sure... It's tragic and weird. And that weird-tragedy somehow morphs itself into this beautifully grotesques illustration of the human psyche.

I'm so proud to be a part of this weird tragic little race.

No. I'm not Ze Frank. I don’t think he’d be very happy to have another copy of himself running around.

(Or maybe he would?...)

I don't know how he’d feel, but I know that I wouldn't like being a non-origional.

So this is me embracing my own voice. As frustrated as I get with it, it’s mine.

Not inadequate. Not 2much. Or 2little.

Just-Me