Satisfaction

 I wonder what it would take to satisfy me when it comes to writing? Do I want to be remembered, rich, or another one of those writers who gets lost in the flurry of written tales published every day? What does it take to get attention? As someone on the spectrum I'm always craving attention while shunning other people in a weird conundrum that is my brain. I've been reaching out to smaller authors in hopes of getting feedback or making some friends but I forget that they have lives too. I wonder if that interferes with writing because I don't have much of a life. I have my parents, maybe two friends, and no lover. I guess that makes me a loner. I remember reading about Chuck Palahniuk's rise to fame with his first story "Fight Club." Most people remember the movie but the book is excellent and a great thriller. Is that the kind of success I want or do I want to be like my favorite Stephen King and live in the clouds above the rest of the flock? That kind of fame only comes once and a while but I think I want it. What do I really want? You can't go after something if you don't know what you want. I think I want to be famous and stable. By stable, I'm talking mentally and financially. I'm quite poor. I live paycheck to paycheck and I'm in my late thirties. Will I make it in time or has my time run out? I wonder. 

I've contacted two writers today which beats my record of contacting one writer every two days. One of which has a TV show in the works about his Law and Order-type series. Is that what "making it" is? Is TV and movies the highest we can strive for as writers? Look at Lovecraft, barely a dime made when he was alive but ten years after he kicks the bucket he becomes a legend. I can only imagine the royalties he would make if he were still alive. Or how about another author, Salman Rushdie. Is that the kind of attention I'm after? After almost being squewered by an idiot, Salman doesn't seem to have slowed down. Just the opposite, losing an eye has made him even more famous. Is that what I want when I look down the road twenty or thirty years later? I'm sick so now is probably not the best time to think about philosophy. It's like gasoline to fire. 

Maybe I'd rather be somewhat famous like one of the authors I'm reading in "The Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy 2019." Those authors seem to have it together. I imagine there's some type of writing god you have to appease to get to the level of Stephen King or Harlan Ellison. There's some pact or sacrifice you have to make that will rocket your career to the stratosphere. Maybe I want to help others, I'm reading another author's work and already I have notes on the first chapter. Is that my destiny?

I think about that "song" "Satisfaction" by Benny Benassi. I list it as "song" because it's more of a softcore video than a music video. Skanky women use construction equipment to make their meaty bits jump as much as possible. I shouldn't be so bitter about someone else's success. I have to be careful from now on. There's a real side of me online and a professional side that I need to show to others. It doesn't matter what I write if people think I'm a jerk. On the flip side, J.K. Rowling is considered a jerk and I think she's a fantastic human being. People online love to cancel someone more than love them. It's like the new witch hunts.

I guess what I'm getting to at the end of all this babbling is that I don't know what I want. I want to know what I want so I can pursue it.

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