Many people – my social media team included, who will end up posting this Blog for me—have “advised” me to watch what I say about others in my writing. “If you have nothing nice to say, than say nothing at all,” or something of the sort, as the old adage goes. Writing for me has been and continues to be therapeutic and cathartic, and a big part of this has been exorcising the demons of bad feelings I’ve had toward others. Once I put it on the page, those feelings are gone, although obviously, it would be stupid for me to think that the subjects (read: targets) of my vitriol are going to feel warm and fuzzy toward me when they’ve read what I’ve written. You know what…oh well. For better or for worse, I’ve met and have been close to many celebrities in my lifetime. And as horrible as this is gonna sound…if I have some really gritty, really dirty dirt on them, it’s going to help me to sell books.
I realize also when I write these words, that I open myself up to be the target of hate, resentment and the like. THIS is part of my journey. To get to the core of myself, to be PAINFULLY honest in ALL of my thoughts and motivations, and let the consequences be damned. We ALL have thoughts in our head that we likely would never share with A SINGLE OTHER HUMAN BEING. The deep, dark, debased, depraved thoughts, that we’d ourselves characterize with all those “d words” and a whole lot more. And we think, if we WERE to share them, we’d subject ourselves to being ridiculed and ostracized to such a level that we’d find it almost impossible to continue living amongst our friends. Amongst humankind in general. Yet at the same time, we think that “sharing” these thoughts might also SET US FREE. Well, fuck it. I’m going for it. I am 50 years old, and I’ve been near-dead and have “given up” so many times that I’ve lost count.
Against all odds –at least those I would have set for myself– I am feeling better, more optimistic, more excited, than ever before in my life. Truly, all that I aspire to now, is to find my truth, my ultimate freedom. In writing Been There, Done That, I’ve opened up. Sure, I’ve skewered a few “deserving” souls. And yes, I realize the notion that I feel them “deserving” of being raked across hot coals is subjective to myself. (Although, somehow, I can’t help but know that some I’ve chosen are held in the same low regard my many others). And some of those subjects are ‘celebrities” that have squeaky clean images. Dying to know what YOU think of them after I get done with them. “If you have nothing nice to say, than say nothing at all.” Fuck it. I want to sell books. AND find my freedom. Which I’ve done, because the person I skewer worse –FAR WORSE—than ANYONE else, is…me. The darkness, the debasement, it’s all there.
Writing this stuff has begun to free me; putting it out there for the world to see will complete the journey. I risk my friends, my few remaining, incredibly beloved family members, by doing so. But I feel the NEED to go all the way. I’ve just posted a very small example of this, an entry from Been There, Done That on my site. This entry is a very lightweight entry of my journey into self-revelation. It revolves around the death of Dad and I how romanticized it at first. And later, owned up to my poor treatment of him –the man that gave me life—as he neared his end.