A Few Words About Failure

Once again I have been rendered a failure... Or should I even say "once again"? Since life to me feels like one long failure, rather than a series of short ones, perhaps I should have begun this post with the phrase " I am still a failure". See, I can't even be a success at denigrating myself, and it's the only thing I'm really good at.

I've just closed up shop at the Pop Culture Institute, which failed spectacularly on almost every front: it failed to get comments, it failed to attract readers, it failed to generate dialogue, it even failed to maintain momentum (mainly due to the other three failures). Self-Loathario, with significantly fewer posts, is, by comparison, a roaring success; such a success, in fact, that I have often been jealous of it on behalf of the other one. I dare any therapist to disentangle that mess!

So now, with several spare hours a day on my hands that I once upon a time used to lavish on the Pop Culture Institute, it's like I have an enormous gap in my schedule; in fact, given the amount of time I used to spend on writing and researching over there, one could say that I have my entire schedule back, and nothing to do in it.

The first priority, clearly, is returning my life to some semblance of normality: cleaning my apartment, exercising, and spending time with my friends are near the top of the To-Do List. Since I currently find myself at an impasse with regards to my work, I'm clearly going to have to do whatever has to be done to keep money coming in, whether that involves fighting for work with my current employer or looking for work elsewhere. To that end, the routine I've known for the past nine months is about to get a serious shake-up, which is bound to make for an interesting summer, at least.

Plus, I have to do all this while at the front of my mind there will be lurking the constant reminder that I am a failure. This shouldn't prove any kind of a hindrance, because I'm used to it by now; if you stood outside my apartment window with a bullhorn and shouted "You're a failure!" up at me every five seconds for the rest of my life I'd still have you beat. Self-loathing, in my case, is a kind of white noise in my brain.

I think for the time being I'll stick close to the one thing (other than self-loathing) I know I'm good at: taking pictures. Even though when it comes to marketing and selling those pictures I'm a colossal failure, since I have no degree and therefore no chance to show in a gallery or be represented by a stock agency, I know that in the taking of them at least I'm Ansel Adams and Richard Avedon combined. In fact, I may even start a photo blog; at the very least, it'll give me something else to fail at, and in that respect, I'll be shouting "I am failure, hear me roar" in no time at all.