Hello my blog lovelies.
First of all, let me apologize for the long absence. I could say I was busy doing important actor/author business, but that would only be half true.
Really, it’s that the things I want to say, I’m not allowed to say. I’m not happy. I’m disgruntled, disenchanted, and deserve a hell of a lot better than the left over sack of poop people have been trying to shovel into my mouth.
I haven’t been working on new projects. I haven’t been running. I’ve been spending every spare bit of energy I have not screaming that I am worth more than being an afterthought and I refuse to be treated as a second-class citizen.
See, I would never claim to be a nice person. To me, nice people are those fake smilers. The ones who will offer you candy but not help you up the steps. Nice people will tell you how pretty your hair looks, but they won’t help you fix your stuck zipper.
I’m more of the good person type. I won’t lie and say your dress looks gorgeous when it doesn’t, but I will build a stretcher and haul you three miles to the edge of the woods where there’s cell phone service so we can call 911.
Where does the nice vs. good screw you over?
When you’re a nice person, people bend over backwards to please you. They go out of their way to make things fair and comfortable for you.
When you’re a good person, people have grown accustomed to your being there. To your showing up in the pouring rain to give your blood, sweat, and tears to make things work.
But what happens when you decide that you refuse to let your work be taken advantage of? What do you do when you decide that you will not be the last person considered when the powers at be wonder about being fair? When you decide that you’re no longer going to let them smear the shit end of the stick all over you face and then expect a thank you in response?
Easy. You have an existential crisis, disappear from the world for a while whilst examining your self worth, and come back to the party with the full knowledge that walking away might be the biggest win of all time.
The prize isn’t always making it to the end; the prize can very well be walking away with your soul intact.