WEDNESDAY, 5 SEPTEMBER 2012
Failure, and the renewed impression that, because I barely make enough money, I don’t work. Despite books published – both personal material and commercial projects, websites and other internet properties, and years of day in and day out, week in and week out, and months of struggling to make money with projects that ended up as packs of scrap paper.
Which makes you wonder why you’re still trying. What exactly is the point? Keep trying because it’s better than giving up? Then I’d rather spend all of my time writing – morning, afternoon and night, weekday and weekend, twelve months of the year until I expire, and to publish what I have written, and to market what I have published.
Is that not enough? Who does better? People who have children? Do they necessarily do better? Do they leave more behind? Is what they leave behind necessarily good? What if their children become violent criminals? What if their children become corrupt, greedy bastards, or junkies and alcoholics?
I am trying to make money. Because it’s the right thing to do. Because I like to eat. Because I like washing with soap and I like brushing my teeth at least twice a day. Because I like clean clothes, even if my shirts and trousers have seen better days.
I have to make money. And my wife has to make money. After work, my wife watches TV, or she cleans the house. After work, which at this stage is synonymous with appearances as an English teacher, because that’s apparently all I can do to make money, I do more work because I don’t want to make more appearances as an English teacher, and because it’s not sustainable anyway. When I finish the other work, I have to continue writing, and I have to publish what I write, and market what I publish. Work, work, write – which is also work, but it only counts as work if it makes money.
Every day people bite the dust. Every day. And the world continues. It’s not that people don’t care, it’s just that their own lives don’t stop just because someone has crashed into the gutter, or worse.
Every day people bite the dust, victims of circumstances, victims of other people’s diabolical deeds, or victims by their own hand.
It’s simple: Stay on your feet, or you, too, will bite the dust. And the world will continue without you.
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