George Watsky is a fucking genius.

George Watsky just kicked my ass.

For those of you who know anything about me, I’ve pretty much had a constant boner for George Watsky ever since I first discovered him.  (Thank you, Shayne.  For introducing me to Watsky, not for the boner.)  The kid is pretty much my hero, despite my being about five years older than him.  I appreciate how clever he is with his language, how he stays true to what he feels and believes, and how he is able to really get a point across with his poetry and rap.  There’s just something about his art that really speaks to me, in ways I’ve never experienced before.

One of the other reasons I admire him so greatly is because of his drive and determination.  Let’s face it, pretty much no one knows who George Watsky is.  But that hasn’t slowed the kid down at all.  He’s still out there, making his videos, writing his poetry and music, and putting it out there.  There’s no way this kid isn’t going to be big.  He’s going to make it happen, no matter what.

He’s bold and charismatic, and has amazing presentation.  Things which I am not, or do not possess.  Well, perhaps in some small way, I am those things.  I know how to entertain people with a story.  But I’m definitely not the “get up on a stage and tell that story to a million people” guy.

See, I have severe chronic depression.  This isn’t the article where I’ll really get into the nitty gritty of the situation, but I’ll give you the basics.  Depression is a crushing condition.  There are days where I just can’t do things.  As in, I completely feel as though I lack the ability to do simple things, like order a pizza over the phone.  There are moments where literally everything feels gray, and hopeless, and mundane, and nothing seems fun or worthwhile.  Actually, there are a lot of those moments.  An awful lot of those moments.

I do my best not to use my depression as a crutch, or an excuse.  And to be honest, I can’t really tell the difference between hiding behind my depression, and it legitimately crushing me under it’s weight.  Either way, I don’t want to let it hold me back, but that is a difficult proposition.  It’s like an enemy that you can only escape by running away, and it has broken your legs.

But, I have used it as an excuse.  Looking at Watsky putting his writing out there in the ways that I have not, depression has been the thing I’ve identified as separating us.  I think “I would totally write more, and find more venues to express myself through my material, just like Watsky, but unfortunately, I’m depressed, and that’s what’s holding me back.”

Yes, I’m kind of a bitch.  We all know.

Then, today, I listened to Watsky’s new song “Hey, Asshole.”  Check it out here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=aXTxoPFmL0k   (While you’re there, watch every other video he’s ever done, because the guy is great.)

Maybe I’m reading too much into it.  Maybe I’m not.  But this song is fucking SPOT ON in regards to how I feel about my depression.  SPOT.  ON.  Most people that I’ve had depression discussions with simply don’t understand the concept.  So, this brings me to an eerie conclusion.  Either Watsky is incredibly close to someone who has depresssion, or, DUN DUN DUNNN…..he has depression himself.

Yeah, you watch some videos, and sure, he doesn’t look like he has anything even remotely related to depression.  Well, we get pretty good at faking it in situations that require us to.  I function pretty well at work, even on my bad days.

So if he does have depression, then I really have no fucking excuse.  While this is a very very very scary proposition, it also could be somewhat freeing.  If someone else, someone that I can relate to, and wants to do the same thing I do (writing, in a very general sense) and has the same issues that I do, and can succeed, then dammit, I can too.

So, it’s been an inspirational couple of weeks for me.  Lot of changes recently (I moved, though not of my own volition) and maybe it’s time for me to get strong.  Maybe it’s time to get moving, get working on my shit, and make some things happen.  Of course, I’ve said this a thousand times before, and failed.  Oh well, I suppose this is as good a moment as any to get back up and start running again, even if falling down a little further down the trail is inevitable.  Perhaps it’s only really a failure if you never get back up again.

Anyway, thanks George.



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