I often get bummed out by the lack of an audience for my books. I mean, that’s kinda the whole premise of this blog. But no matter how much despair I might feel about shoveling my writing into the void, I gotta remember: at least I’m not famous for something I did back when I was 20 and both my writing and my brain sucked.

Like, it’s not just that the shit I wrote back then wasn’t good. It’s that if I did somehow have a huge hit at that time, I’d have spent the last 17 years thinking I was the greatest fucking thing on the planet. I’d be shitting out all kinds of lazy opinions like a somehow even worse Max Landis, and I would never understand why people thought I was a fucking dick.

Fame seems to be bad enough for people who actually do have self awareness. Thank Christ, man. I know it probably sounds like bullshit that I say to get through the day, but I really mean it. I’m much happier that I became a better writer instead of peaking before I had a fully developed frontal cortex.

Apologies to all the kids actors out there who never had a chance, I’m sure you did your best.