There resides within me a consistent feeling that I am wasting away. This is both physical and mental (the wasting away, that is – the feeling is totally just mental). I feel as though my body will give out momentarily, and my mind is at its peak. I know this to be ultimately false, but still it is hard to consistently tell myself otherwise. I know others that feel this way as well.
One of them is a friend who is an accomplished musician – a career I wouldn’t literally kill for, but close. This friend manages to change cities with no money and no plan, and has since established residences in two different houses filled with musicians such as himself. There are times where he is unable to speak with me because he is on a “short tour” to the nearby, yet out-of-state college towns. When I finally got the chance to meet up with him, he divulged to me that he feels as though he could have done more with his time so far. Of course, some of these emotions are spurred by the likes of celebrities who become extremely mainstream and extremely sold-out at such a young age. Yet, many of these feelings that he shares with me come from a sense of uncertainty in the future. In his case, what will the town of Nashville look like in ten years? And, god forbid, in twenty?
Before this friend left our hometown, one of the last sentiments we shared together was the idea that if we had a mortgage to pay in the town we grew up in, we’d both have to kill ourselves.
I, too, share the fear that the future is uncertain. I know that I am not someone who can do a whole lot completely on my own, because I will inevitably run away and change courses for something easier. Because of that, I yearn for consistency, yet also loathe it more than anything.
It also doesn’t help to see twenty year-olds making their “big break” with contracts on SNL, or record deals with Sony, etc. That’s not to say that I want to be famous, but still, it’d be nice to feel like I’ve done a bit more with my time.
I am comfortable, however, with the idea that I’ve not sold out. Sure, to sell out you have to be known by at least a minimum of, say ten people, but it’s an accomplishment all the same. Another accomplishment is the fact that I physically back up all of my productions AND use the cloud! And so to close is the iCloud commercial I’d make if I were in charge of things like that:
Are you afraid of dying? Of course you are, you are a person. Probably. And as a probable person you want to know that you did all you could with your time to be selfishly remembered, right? That’s why we’ve created iCloud. With iCloud, you can die, at any given time, and all of your content will be automatically backed up. Remember that note you were making, figuring out how to ask your relatives for money? Or that Pages letter you wrote to come out to your parents? If and when you die, you’ll be happy to know that all of that was saved! Your family can feel free to look at all of your inner thoughts, secrets, and even finances, even though you physically and mentally took no action for this to be so. So if you have to die, die comfortably knowing that your legacy will be not having passed with any personal privacy whatsoever. Ahh, now that’s a relief! iCloud.