pleasefindthis's Blog: Written On The Side Of The Page , page 39

My Favourite Moment

I let things go last year.

It was probably the hardest year of my life.

In short order:

I got the job I wanted (be careful what you want).

I got all the work that came with that job.

I got phone calls from clients at 11pm.

I got very few weekends.

I got hijacked at gunpoint.

I got agoraphobic because of that and don't leave the house much these days.

I got destroyed, after my long term girlfriend left me for working too hard and never leaving the house.

I got sad when soon afterwards, my grandmother passed away (we were close).

I got my house broken into and some of my favourite things, taken.

I got found in my pyjamas, watching a Will & Grace marathon, by a friend after a week of not coming to work.

I got to what I think was my lowest point.

So I gave up smoking, after 10 years of smoking a pack a day.

I gave running a go and now I run nearly every morning (and there are times when the songs I listen to make me feel like I could become a feeling that moves so fast, it leaves my body behind).

I gave up eating meat for most of the week.

I gave all the people I missed a call (they're all good and we're having a reunion soon).

I gave living on my own a chance and it's good, the house is still haunted and I find mementos of the past every now and again but I collect them and put them away.

I gave all my energy to editing and making the I Wrote This For You book as good as it could be so it'd be ready for publishing before the end of the year.

I gave my boss a talk about how I'll be focusing on less work this year, which he took well.

So I got more when I gave than when I got.

But the title of this post is 'My Favourite Moment' - which is when I go swimming at the end of my run each morning.

Or more specifically, when I leap from the edge of the pool, when fear no longer matters and everything is left up to fate and gravity and there is nothing more I can do but hit the water and go under.

It only takes one moment of bravery to set that all in motion.

That's my favourite moment.

A Brave New World

I find purpose in trying to create things that couldn't exist at any other point in history.

I don't believe that I Wrote This For You would ever have been published if it wasn't for the fact that it existed online before it was a book, the fact that I could prove to people

"Look. This works."

"It's a book about... 'You'?"

"Yes."

100 years ago - I wouldn't have been able to do this.

I would, perhaps, have some scratchings on vellum that I could show to someone and they would more than likely say

"You are insane! Good day to you sir!"

"Bu-"

"I said good day!"

We live in a new, constantly changing, beautiful world. I don't believe a more interesting point in history has ever existed. Things change and empires rise and fall before lunchtime.

So, without further ado, here are what I consider the big difference between the old world and the new world.


The old world is ok with bullying and oppression.

It didn't matter who you beat up or who you hurt or what you said because, hey, who's going to know.

The new world is not.

The new world chants "The Whole World Is Watching!" while they hold up their camera phones, streaming your actions to an entire planet. The new world records their boss or their teacher's harassment and posts it on youtube. The new world will find you and punish you for the way you've treated someone in a weaker position than yourself.


The old world requires middle management.

Back in the day, you needed some fat guy in charge of the guys who drove the trucks who took your product/book/CD/work to the store. And if he wanted to, he could be an asshole and you wouldn't have a choice about it.

The new world does not.

The new world distributes everything instantly across the earth, new things are discovered on a second-by-second basis and if the guy running your distribution network is an asshole, you can find smaller networks to join together and coordinate themselves.


The old world values experience over newness.

"Who cares how good your idea is, I'm not even going to judge it for myself because you haven't been doing this for 20 trillion years."

I ran into this a lot trying to get I Wrote This For You published. Various industries in South Africa (where I live) have a mentality of

"Well, if it hasn't been done overseas first, we're not going to try it over here. What if it fails?!?"

This means a lot of culture, art and literature down here is simply tired, recycled American or European content, with a few local landmarks, symbols or touch-points thrown in to make it 'relevant.'

And it means that many of the more innovative artists from here leave as soon as they can, to places where newness is more readily accepted.

Spoek Mathambo has a residency in Switzerland last I heard.

Neil Blomkamp (director of District 9) lives in Canada.

The new world does not.

The new world believes in 'the democracy of ideas'. Which means that no matter who you are, if your idea has merit, it will be adopted by the whole.


The old world believes in looking good.

You just have to manage to sound nice for 30 seconds on a TV or Radio ad and you're golden.

The new world does not.

The new world believes in -actually- being good. Most companies don't seem to understand that if they spent half as much on moral and ethics classes for their board of directors or on quality control for their products, they wouldn't need to spend the ridiculous amounts they do on 'social media gurus' - who are essentially relics of the old world, disguised as patrons of the new world, selling the idea that they can disguise your dinosaur infrastructure and approach to people with a thin veneer of text speak and emoticons.

The new world, is actually good. The old world, just wants to look that way. And it scares the old world, because being nice, being human 24 hours a day is petrifying.

But I digress.


The old world wants to sell you a product.

It wants to sell one you a Christmas Greatest Hits album. It wants to sell you a book. It might throw in a making of documentary.

The new world does not.

The new world, most of the artists I respect at least, understand that what they've created is an idea and they want the people around them to experience that idea in as many different ways as possible. See Björk's new album Biophilia or Radiohead's King Of Limbs and Trent Reznor/Nine Inch Nails' Year Zero project.

The old world uses words like 'blogger' which, in truth, makes about as much sense as referring to a writer as a 'papperist'.

The new world doesn't care about labels, who you are or what you look like. Just that you are human when other humans, are human to you.

Perhaps, 2012 is the end of the world. The old one at least.

I can only hope.

In The Beginning...

Here at least
we shall be free

- Paradise Lost, John Milton

The nature of I Wrote This For You doesn't really allow me to say much about it on the site itself.

So I believe this will be a place in which I can say things.

So I will say things.

One of the things I won't be saying is "thank you" (for your support when we launched the I Wrote This For You book) as I have gushed enough and if I continue to thank you, I believe the Oscars will fly out their orchestra and the string section will take turns jumping on my fingers and keyboard to get me to just shut the hell up.

I will say this:

Life is scary. I am scared. Petrified. I don't know what writing a 'successful book' means. Do I have to go and live in a log cabin somewhere? Do I have to move to California and drive a broken down black Porsche?

Worse, do I have to become incredibly depressed, addicted to several different substances and 'scratch the itch at the back of my head with a shotgun' at the end of it all?

I hope not.

I'd like to go on being human.

To be human is such a wonderful thing.

Every day I wake up and I try to remind myself that the light slowly creeping its way under the curtains comes from a giant ball of fire, millions of miles away and that the giant rock my bed is resting on, is spinning around that giant ball of fire.

To be human, to be here, now, is a wonderful thing.

And that is perhaps what inspires me a lot of the time; humans and the things they do. The way we love, hate, war with each other and heal.

That there are people in this world who would judge you because of the way that the particles and waves of light from the aforementioned giant ball of fire refract off your skin.

That there are people who will buy complete strangers pizza, for no other reason than they can and someone else is hungry.

That there are so many of us, all different, yet sharing common human truths.

Truly, to be human, is a wonderful thing.

Like I said, I try and spend some time each day reminding myself of that.

I am incredibly lucky to get letters from around the world saying that my life has changed someone else's or that a turn of phrase has inspired someone beyond measure.

I am incredibly grateful for that. But I do my level best to never take it to heart.

Because I never, ever want to stop being anything but human.

I will do my best to try and write here often.

Thank you.