I’ve been writing in this blog for five years now? Six years? It gets blurry sometimes when I don’t have all my numbers in front of me. I’ve dedicated myself to this every Friday since I left high school and I have awoken every morning wanting to bring the best of me to this medium. Occasionally that isn’t the case, and it has been evident every so often. But I’ve loved every last second of the work I’ve done here. So much so, that earlier, when I contemplated shutting the whole blog down I refused, because I like what I do too much. It fits with me and it is a part of me, just as much as the rest of my writing is.
We all have things that we work on, like small pet projects and hobbies that we work to be masterful at. Lately, my desire has been to be a good son, a good boyfriend, a good friend. I tend to spend more time than necessary working on the blog, or a new book, or whatever. I want to get all of these things done on time and with a great gusto. Every project completion for me, I think, should come with a great storm and a chorus of rain just to let the world know I’ve finished something new.
What I’m saying, is I like to think that I am a bit more important than I really am sometimes. In personal relationships or in professional ones. It’s somewhat frustrating I’m sure, always dealing with me believing that I’m the man and working around the giant ego that mentality comes with.
Lately, though, I’ve been sleeping a lot and waking up later than I want. I’ve been so tired all the time and it’s been wearing on me, so much so that my famed ability to ignore my alarms has turned into a fully-fledged superpower. It’s frustrating to my girlfriend, who works early in the morning and wants to sleep for the duration of the night and not be disturbed during her mid-day nap, usually when I’m rolling out of bed.
I generally roll out of bed in the afternoon and shuffle into the bathroom to brush my teeth and then swing my robe around my shoulders to find a new thing to do that day. Plan a book, make some graphics, schedule a whole movement for my blog, whatever the case may be. I have noticed on days like today when I wake up at noon, I feel so much worse than the days when I wake up at nine, or ten. Not because I adhere to some belief that you’re only more productive if you’re up early, but I physically feel worse. My sides hurt, and my head is groggy for hours. It’s hard to focus and bring myself up to the level I need to bring myself to.
In part, I think that’s because I never trained myself to listen to my alarm. I just depended on those around me for much of my life to wake me up. Until I started Salt + Iron and my ideas began to drag me out of bed, I was more or less a burden on those around me. Never waking up when I wanted to and letting my alarm ring well into the afternoon. My friends will attest to that.
I think there’s something to be said about getting enough sleep at night. I’ve come to realize I probably haven’t been giving myself enough time to sleep at night. I set my sleep schedule for six hours and when I blow past that and race to nine or ten hours I get up frustrated.
It’s just like wanting to be a bestselling author by the time I was 25. I haven’t cleared that goal yet, and it used to really bother me. I had this idea in my head that I’d be much farther along than I am right now, and it scratched at my insides for years. I wanted to be the best, I wanted to be the wisest and most intelligent. I wanted to be the most creative. So much so that I felt that writing was a talent specific to me amongst my group of friends for a long time. I just didn’t allow myself to think that anyone else could enjoy this same passion that I did.
So, I would try to do everything, in honor of people who could do it all themselves.
I don’t know how to explain that train of thought. Of course, I’m not the only one who can write or draw or whatever. I still had that thought anyway. Perhaps it came from the version of myself that was still angry at the world for how the nerdy kids are treated in grade school. Perhaps I still felt the swollen bumps on my head from the kids that used to throw full soda cans at me after school. Perhaps I felt that I was more important than the next guy.
A total fallacy, but one I adhered to.
I think that’s why I worked myself mad in the long run. I fiercely believed the old adage, “if you want something done right, do it yourself.”
So, I tried to do everything myself without accepting any help from anyone, which resulted in a whole lot of messes I have just finished cleaning up and working to repair.
What I’m trying to say, is that I was so focused on this project, these goals and dreams of mine, that I started cranking out shirts and books and work that I thought I was proud of at the time. Only to later realize how poorly written or designed they were, and I realized that I just kept doing the same thing over and over again. I’d try to adjust my schedule, try to adjust my working patterns, and still wind up doing the same thing the same way. Which, if you’re unaware, leads to madness.
It’s a sad sentiment, that all the sleepless nights I spent editing or writing or designing bound me to this half-baked problem, leaving me mad and without a direction to continue in…
But I needed those failures to get to where I am today.
Perhaps that’s why I sleep so much now, I’m catching up on all the lost time, recharging my batteries, maybe I’ve critically damaged my circadian rhythm. I couldn’t be sure.
But what I do know now, is that I am moving with a purpose I haven’t had in years. I am writing and working towards stable goals.
My goals may have changed a bit, but they’re still here and I’m still working on these books with a clearer head than I’ve ever had.
On the eve of the black dawn, I’m proud to tell you how much I’ve grown. How much I’ve changed. I’m proud to tell you that I am still here, the same old Alva Tobias with a new fire inside of him.
I’ll see you in the morning.
Welcome to the “last” blog post of Building Pyramids. I’ve grown much this year, and I’ve learned a lot about the art I’ve been so enamored with my whole life. I’ve been writing and I’ve been working diligently on my new projects, but I refuse to make the same mistakes more times. I’m not going to promise you something if it is never going to come. When you hear about new projects when you get titles and ideas, I’ll be giving you release dates and I’m sticking to them.
At the end of the year, I like to look back on the past year of my business and take a good look at what I’m creating and what I’d done that year. This year and the previous both suffered the same problem. I tried to summon all of this energy for RAC or DZY or one of my other projects, and when the release date arrived I couldn’t’ stick to it because I wasn’t prepared for the work it would take. I’ve also allowed a lot of glimpses behind the curtain this year, to let you guys see what it’s like on my side of the screen. I think that’s hurt a lot of the magic to me. I like to live in this artificial bubble I make for myself that tells me no one knows what I’m doing or how I’m doing it, of course, it’s not hard to imagine me sitting at a computer and writing all of this down, but I do like to believe in fairy tales. I like that feeling of the veil there. It leaves some level of mystery within us.
One last thing, before the Dawn…
Thank you for this year. To those who have stood by me, + to those who have felt the need to tear me down, especially.
I couldn’t have done it without you.
Happy Halloween, friends.
Categories: Building Pyramids