When I was little, I used to read fairy tales. Weetzie Bat fairy tales. Tarot card fairy tales. Books were my religion. Children went to church with their families, I was curled up at home reading fairy tales.
When it was time to grow up, I never knew how. People asked me what would you like to be? and my heart would answer i'd like to be an artist. i'd like to be a hero. What does anyobody want to be except exactly who they are?
Fairy tales do not tell you what you will have to sell in order to pay your rent. They do not tell you what you end up trading for your success. There are no instructions for what to do when your work becomes a monster that steals your time, your energy, your ability to trust and love. There is no handsome prince who comes to slay the beast.
I have heard tales of those who do things differently. But they are tales. Not false, necesarilly, but pleasant and polite. Whenever someone whom I admire is interviewed about how they got where they are, I wish they'd stop talking about how important it is to follow your dreams and just tell me how the fuck they paid their rent while they were waiting for their dreams to make money.
So, this is where I am now. In the woods. Not pleasant. Not pretty. But I didn't promise to be pleasant or pretty, I promised to be honest. In all honesty, I wish I had something beautiful to share with you, but I just don't
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