I'd just finished my latest shortfilm and was feeling quite proud of myself.
AND for the first time EVER, I also finished the accompanying blog to go with it! (see both by clicking here)
When this film went viral, I wanted to be ready to capitalise on it!! Me? Smug??
Please.
I was just about to go global, I think I was handling it pretty well all things considered.
Sure, it wasn't the best shortfilm in the world, but youtube is full of worse shit than that, and that shit gets millions of views.. So why couldn't my shit do the same?
I was also very proud of myself just for having been able to finish the damn thing! I missed the deadline of a previous short film competition because I couldn't complete it. But instead of letting it rot on the shelf, unfinished, I managed to persevere and finish what I started.
By now, it was the small hours of the morning (it always is when I go to bed), so before I hit the hay, I posted a link to my film on Facebook and Twitter and excitedly went to bed, daydreaming about my impending success, and the possibilities of going viral.
I woke up early the next.. um.. afternoon and immediately hit the computer.
WOW!
I couldn't believe it!!
I had the most Facebook notifications.. EVER!!
Ten notifications!!
I felt so popular! FINALLY!!
My Facebook was practically a sea of red!!
(That's a joke kids. The most notifications I ever got was.. eleven)
I eagerly scanned through the notifications, expecting comments relating to my video and how awesome it was.. But instead it was practically ALL relating to randoms I don't know, commenting on photos that had also been commented on by me.
Don't you just hate it when that happens?
Damn Facebook. Getting my hopes up and then dashing them all in the same notification.
Maybe better luck on Twitter then??
Hahahahahahaha!
Sorry, private joke for all us nobodies on Twitter.
'..better luck on Twitter'??
Hahaha.
Ah. Good one.
Sorry. For those of you NOT on Twitter (wise mother truckers that you are), it's basically like this..
No one talks to you.. EVER!!
..Or is that just me??
Anyway, expecting better luck from Twitter was a sign of how desperate my situation was becoming.
So I hit up Youtube.. and there were like 8 views of my shortfilm, zero 'likes' and zero 'shares'. Not exactly going viral then. Haha.
Oh well.
I checked my emails and.. and there was a message via my website!
Exciting!
It was from a really talented filmmaker/animator that I'd chatted to a few times on Twitter (ok, so occasionally people chat to you on Twitter.. but it's like, a rarity. Mostly people just tweet and no one responds.. or is that just me again?).
I really admired her work and it was obvious she was a rising star, already having been short-listed in the largest shortfilm competition in the UK!!
It began:
'Hello Nish' (That's me)
'saw your latest blog post and short film and felt the need to write you an email.'
Aww. How sweet.
She continued:
'Your recent film is very typical of a student and I personally wouldn't have bothered finishing it.'
Whaaaaaaaaa???
'You seem to lack imagination when you need it most.'
I lack... imagination??
Me??
The king of creativity, the master of making shit up, the daddy of delusions, the Nish of Nish..
I lack imagination??
It got worse.
'Before you think about entering festivals, why not focus purely on making better content?
Lets be honest your work isn't very good. It's not very watchable.
...It's so easy for people to share content these days so why aren't people sharing your work?'
Ouch.
My work isn't very good, and the reason people don't share it.. is because it isn't very good. So simple, and yet so true.
I always thought the reason people didn't 'like' or 'share' my work was because they're all son's of bitches, but this argument made a lot more sense.
No matter how much I scream and shout and cajole and bribe people to like my stuff or share it, no one EVER does...
'You try to promote everything you do. It's a shame it isn't that good.
..better to focus on one brilliant piece of work and spend time promoting that, than several lame videos that no one wants to watch.'
I DO promote everything I do.. and none of it is any good?
Kids, imagine how I felt.
I'm very nearly an old man by now, I've squandered my life chasing a foolish dream, suffered for it, missed out on all life's pleasures.. but the one indisputable fact I held onto, despite decades without success, was that I had talent.
I had something; something unique, something it was my duty to pursue...
It never entered my mind that the reason success was so elusive was because, actually, I had zero talent, and was frankly, shit at what I did.
I mean, I went to bed all excited, woke up expectantly, like a giddy school kid on Christmas morning, only to be slapped in the face with the cold hard reality that Christmas is just a corporate invention to get people to buy tonnes of shit, and father Christmas is a creation of the Coca Cola company.
I felt the blood drain from my body as my over excited stupor was transformed to a desperate sense of
'What the F**k have I wasted my life on??'
Nothing I produce gets watched, liked or shared, not because I'm not promoting it heavily enough, but because it's f**king SHIT!!!!
I mean to be fair to this rising star of the film/animation world, she took the time to write me a really long email and it was FULL of really good advice and a critique of where I was going wrong and suggestions on where I could improve.
She didn't have to do that, and I'm REALLY appreciative of the fact she did.
But the lines that I dwelled on were the ones I just quoted.
They rang in my mind for days, like the sound of an alarm as you desperately try to cling on to the blanket of sleep.
I felt like such a fool.
Like one of those deluded contestants on X-Factor, auditioning for the opportunity of a lifetime, convinced of their own greatness but meanwhile to everyone else, they're just a joke. Only they don't know it. They don't know how shit they really are, and the fact that they think they're so good only makes it more funny.
Was I the same as one of those X-Factor jokes?
Proudly producing leaflets and postcards, T-shirts that adorned my face. Stamping my logo and web address everywhere I go and begging people to like my Facebook page.
No wonder I was always greeted with resistance wherever I went.
No wonder everyone (but the precious few) ignored my pleas.
Behind the Emperor's new clothes, there lay nothing. It was all just pomp and decoration.
I lacked the skills and nothing I've ever done has been any good.
--
I'm not one to feel sorry for myself and immediately my gut wanted to react!
I discussed the matter with my friends, hoping for some reassuring dissent, but instead they told me that everyone needs a dose of reality from time to time.
Everyone, including me, thought that I needed to use this as an incentive to come back stronger.
So I got to thinking..
I already had some great shortfilm ideas, why hadn't I made them yet?
What was I waiting for??
I wanted to come back hard and fast.
Make my best short ever and post it online within that same week.
I knew this talented Australian actress (she was actually our waitress from a few months earlier, but her being pretty and me being opportunistic, we got chatting) and we wanted to collaborate on something. We even discussed ideas, but then she did that whole 'actor thing'. You know, where they keep making plans and then cancel on you at the last possible minute. In the end I told her I'd pursue the idea without her. She wasn't too pleased, but hey, don't piss off the director.
Anyway, I got back in touch with her (she was talented after all) and we met up a few days later..
She basically told me she had tonnes of other stuff on and insinuated that I just wanted to probe her mind for ideas.. again. Haha. It's called 'collaborating'. Jeez.
So now I had this awesome idea, and no actress.
Luckily in this town, there's no shortage of acting talent.
But it did give me time to pause.
Was this my best idea?
If I could only make one more film in my life, would this be it?
–
A month has passed since I received that email.
My response has been mute.
The indignation, the fire in my belly, the desire to show the world that I am somebody has.. reduced.
Did I come back stronger?
Too much time spent dreaming rather than doing.
Too much time chasing chick's that aren't interested, aren't worth it, or in most cases, both.
Back to my old ways of wasting my days, procrastinating and generally letting life slip through my fingers without ever tasting any of the best of what it has to offer...
On Saturday I braved the farthest reaches of London's East End to attend the MCM Expo (a massive gathering of film, video game & animé.. stuff). My ego had recovered and instead of producing something amazing to wow the crowds, I was instead planning my greatest marketing blitz so far. It seemed I had learned nothing.
Armed with hundreds of promotional postcards, I assaulted the masses and took the place by storm.. by very politely and nervously handing out postcards and asking people if I could give them one. Some declined but most were decent enough to accept my offering.
I was promoting my film 'The Man That Killed The World' explaining to people that I was trying to spread the word and build up interest.
Most seemed interested, surprisingly.
I asked them to check out my website and if they liked what I was doing, to like my Facebook page (the desperation to be 'liked' crept back in too).
Later I handed out postcards with my Valentine's day artwork on it.
In all, I must've handed out 120 odd postcards?
I still had plenty left, but the thing closed at 6pm, and we got there at 4:30pm (the tube was seriously MESSED UP on Saturday!!! ..And before that, we were already running late). I never really got to enjoy the event but did manage to get rid of a lot of promotional material.
Later, we hit the familiar piss filled streets of the West End and partied. Hard.
I chatted to a tonne of chicks and had a damn good time. Standard.
But nothing much beyond that. I handed my card to a few of them.. and managed to catch one of them showing it to her friends, after which they all had a good laugh! Haha.
What's the matter? Never seen a business card with a handsome head shot on it before??
Bitch.
But what do you expect with someone from Brisbane?
I woke up to another dark 'n dreary Sunday afternoon and monitored my website.
Despite the blitz, there was no new traffic to my site and not even one new like on my Facebook page.
Instead of spending my money on all that promotional material, it would've been more effective if I just gave each person a quid and asked them for a favour.
None of those chicks I chatted to got back to me either, but that was expected.
Unless you leave with a number, you're leaving with nothing. Chicks very rarely make first contact, and if they do, it's after you've already 'connected'.
Demoralising defeat.
Again.
Working hard and getting nowhere.
Fighting the current instead of letting it drag me to the way of the world...
Forever swimming on the spot as others race by in their luxury yachts.
I'm now well into my thirties and if you told me back when I was twenty one that this is what my life would be, I'd probably hit you. I definitely wouldn't have believed you. It would be unfathomable to the man I had just become that this is the man I would end up being.
Mine was meant to be the road to the high life, not the path to the gutter.
It is an unrequited life. A life of longing, of writing and of drawing...
Money is a constant source of anxiety.
What little money I can leverage away from the banks (HSBC bought the deeds to my soul back when I was a student, providing me with a steady stream of credit at an extortionate rate) I spend on repaying the debts I already owe, on promotion no one wants to see and on taking out girls who don't appreciate the effort.
Everything else goes on the essentials of living:
Great nights out, celebratory gifts for others.. and face wash.
Don't worry Daily Mail readers, I'm not on the dole.
Thank God for my Indian parents. If it wasn't for their hard fought generosity (they've been battling my ideals every step of the way), I'd have died on the streets many moons ago.. or just, y'know, got a regular job.
I do as I please, every single day, but that feeling that I'm missing out on life never subsides.
You can reconcile the loss of holidays abroad, of not having the latest gadgets or fashionable clothes.. even not having a roof over your head that you can call your own.
There are greater adventures to be had in life. Adventures that take you to dizzying highs and sickening lows, all without leaving the comfort of your chair.
One cannot reconcile having tasted little in life and also never having tasted that.
I've walked this Earth for over thirty years and the only love I've ever known has come from my parents and my siblings.
They say that to get love you have to be willing to give love first. It speaks of the coldness of my heart that I haven't ever been willing to give love, nor tasted the warmth of receiving it.
The words of the Dean Martin song echo through my mind in a constant loop.
Something's wrong with this picture. Something's wrong with this lifestyle. Something's definitely wrong with this man.
I've had enough.
Enough of dreaming.
Enough of chasing.
Enough of putting a brave face on it.
It's in my hands.
Time for these hands to reveal their worth.
I just want to disappear for a while.
Hide away and go into hibernation, instead of constantly screaming 'Look at me! Like my Facebook page!' like some attention seeking child.
What to do I get out of it anyway?
Not a damn thing.
What difference does it make if I have an audience of one or one million?
None whatsoever.
Forever bribing people to like me with my wit.
The joker.
The entertainer.
The spectacle.
The car crash happening in slow motion for all to see, as they go about their busy lives and make something of themselves.. as I slide ever downwards into the thick deluge of bullshit that has become my life.
This isn't the way my life was supposed to be.
Once upon a time, when no one knew who I was, I showed promise. I had potential. It's time for me to get back on that path.
I won't dwell on my situation, but I will ask the question:
'What do I have to do right now to have the life I want?'
Focus on that.
Disappear.
Re-appear only when I become someone.
When I've done something worth shouting about.
–
Until then, no more blogs.
No more cringe-worthy self promotion.
No more desperate pleas to be 'liked'.
No more pursuing unsuitable women and then feeling like shit afterwards.
Simply, no more.
The website, the Facebook page and the Twitter will all still be there, but I won't be updating them.
This is my final blog.
I will return.
Someday...
'Til then, my grateful thanks to the precious few that showed they cared.
It will always mean a lot.
AND for the first time EVER, I also finished the accompanying blog to go with it! (see both by clicking here)
When this film went viral, I wanted to be ready to capitalise on it!! Me? Smug??
Please.
I was just about to go global, I think I was handling it pretty well all things considered.
Sure, it wasn't the best shortfilm in the world, but youtube is full of worse shit than that, and that shit gets millions of views.. So why couldn't my shit do the same?
I was also very proud of myself just for having been able to finish the damn thing! I missed the deadline of a previous short film competition because I couldn't complete it. But instead of letting it rot on the shelf, unfinished, I managed to persevere and finish what I started.
By now, it was the small hours of the morning (it always is when I go to bed), so before I hit the hay, I posted a link to my film on Facebook and Twitter and excitedly went to bed, daydreaming about my impending success, and the possibilities of going viral.
I woke up early the next.. um.. afternoon and immediately hit the computer.
WOW!
I couldn't believe it!!
I had the most Facebook notifications.. EVER!!
Ten notifications!!
I felt so popular! FINALLY!!
My Facebook was practically a sea of red!!
(That's a joke kids. The most notifications I ever got was.. eleven)
I eagerly scanned through the notifications, expecting comments relating to my video and how awesome it was.. But instead it was practically ALL relating to randoms I don't know, commenting on photos that had also been commented on by me.
Don't you just hate it when that happens?
Damn Facebook. Getting my hopes up and then dashing them all in the same notification.
Maybe better luck on Twitter then??
Hahahahahahaha!
Sorry, private joke for all us nobodies on Twitter.
'..better luck on Twitter'??
Hahaha.
Ah. Good one.
Sorry. For those of you NOT on Twitter (wise mother truckers that you are), it's basically like this..
No one talks to you.. EVER!!
..Or is that just me??
Anyway, expecting better luck from Twitter was a sign of how desperate my situation was becoming.
So I hit up Youtube.. and there were like 8 views of my shortfilm, zero 'likes' and zero 'shares'. Not exactly going viral then. Haha.
Oh well.
I checked my emails and.. and there was a message via my website!
Exciting!
It was from a really talented filmmaker/animator that I'd chatted to a few times on Twitter (ok, so occasionally people chat to you on Twitter.. but it's like, a rarity. Mostly people just tweet and no one responds.. or is that just me again?).
I really admired her work and it was obvious she was a rising star, already having been short-listed in the largest shortfilm competition in the UK!!
It began:
'Hello Nish' (That's me)
'saw your latest blog post and short film and felt the need to write you an email.'
Aww. How sweet.
She continued:
'Your recent film is very typical of a student and I personally wouldn't have bothered finishing it.'
Whaaaaaaaaa???
'You seem to lack imagination when you need it most.'
I lack... imagination??
Me??
The king of creativity, the master of making shit up, the daddy of delusions, the Nish of Nish..
I lack imagination??
It got worse.
'Before you think about entering festivals, why not focus purely on making better content?
Lets be honest your work isn't very good. It's not very watchable.
...It's so easy for people to share content these days so why aren't people sharing your work?'
Ouch.
My work isn't very good, and the reason people don't share it.. is because it isn't very good. So simple, and yet so true.
I always thought the reason people didn't 'like' or 'share' my work was because they're all son's of bitches, but this argument made a lot more sense.
No matter how much I scream and shout and cajole and bribe people to like my stuff or share it, no one EVER does...
'You try to promote everything you do. It's a shame it isn't that good.
..better to focus on one brilliant piece of work and spend time promoting that, than several lame videos that no one wants to watch.'
I DO promote everything I do.. and none of it is any good?
Kids, imagine how I felt.
I'm very nearly an old man by now, I've squandered my life chasing a foolish dream, suffered for it, missed out on all life's pleasures.. but the one indisputable fact I held onto, despite decades without success, was that I had talent.
I had something; something unique, something it was my duty to pursue...
It never entered my mind that the reason success was so elusive was because, actually, I had zero talent, and was frankly, shit at what I did.
I mean, I went to bed all excited, woke up expectantly, like a giddy school kid on Christmas morning, only to be slapped in the face with the cold hard reality that Christmas is just a corporate invention to get people to buy tonnes of shit, and father Christmas is a creation of the Coca Cola company.
I felt the blood drain from my body as my over excited stupor was transformed to a desperate sense of
'What the F**k have I wasted my life on??'
Nothing I produce gets watched, liked or shared, not because I'm not promoting it heavily enough, but because it's f**king SHIT!!!!
I mean to be fair to this rising star of the film/animation world, she took the time to write me a really long email and it was FULL of really good advice and a critique of where I was going wrong and suggestions on where I could improve.
She didn't have to do that, and I'm REALLY appreciative of the fact she did.
But the lines that I dwelled on were the ones I just quoted.
They rang in my mind for days, like the sound of an alarm as you desperately try to cling on to the blanket of sleep.
I felt like such a fool.
Like one of those deluded contestants on X-Factor, auditioning for the opportunity of a lifetime, convinced of their own greatness but meanwhile to everyone else, they're just a joke. Only they don't know it. They don't know how shit they really are, and the fact that they think they're so good only makes it more funny.
Was I the same as one of those X-Factor jokes?
Proudly producing leaflets and postcards, T-shirts that adorned my face. Stamping my logo and web address everywhere I go and begging people to like my Facebook page.
No wonder I was always greeted with resistance wherever I went.
No wonder everyone (but the precious few) ignored my pleas.
Behind the Emperor's new clothes, there lay nothing. It was all just pomp and decoration.
I lacked the skills and nothing I've ever done has been any good.
--
I'm not one to feel sorry for myself and immediately my gut wanted to react!
I discussed the matter with my friends, hoping for some reassuring dissent, but instead they told me that everyone needs a dose of reality from time to time.
Everyone, including me, thought that I needed to use this as an incentive to come back stronger.
So I got to thinking..
I already had some great shortfilm ideas, why hadn't I made them yet?
What was I waiting for??
I wanted to come back hard and fast.
Make my best short ever and post it online within that same week.
I knew this talented Australian actress (she was actually our waitress from a few months earlier, but her being pretty and me being opportunistic, we got chatting) and we wanted to collaborate on something. We even discussed ideas, but then she did that whole 'actor thing'. You know, where they keep making plans and then cancel on you at the last possible minute. In the end I told her I'd pursue the idea without her. She wasn't too pleased, but hey, don't piss off the director.
Anyway, I got back in touch with her (she was talented after all) and we met up a few days later..
She basically told me she had tonnes of other stuff on and insinuated that I just wanted to probe her mind for ideas.. again. Haha. It's called 'collaborating'. Jeez.
So now I had this awesome idea, and no actress.
Luckily in this town, there's no shortage of acting talent.
But it did give me time to pause.
Was this my best idea?
If I could only make one more film in my life, would this be it?
–
A month has passed since I received that email.
My response has been mute.
The indignation, the fire in my belly, the desire to show the world that I am somebody has.. reduced.
Did I come back stronger?
Too much time spent dreaming rather than doing.
Too much time chasing chick's that aren't interested, aren't worth it, or in most cases, both.
Back to my old ways of wasting my days, procrastinating and generally letting life slip through my fingers without ever tasting any of the best of what it has to offer...
On Saturday I braved the farthest reaches of London's East End to attend the MCM Expo (a massive gathering of film, video game & animé.. stuff). My ego had recovered and instead of producing something amazing to wow the crowds, I was instead planning my greatest marketing blitz so far. It seemed I had learned nothing.
Armed with hundreds of promotional postcards, I assaulted the masses and took the place by storm.. by very politely and nervously handing out postcards and asking people if I could give them one. Some declined but most were decent enough to accept my offering.
I was promoting my film 'The Man That Killed The World' explaining to people that I was trying to spread the word and build up interest.
Most seemed interested, surprisingly.
I asked them to check out my website and if they liked what I was doing, to like my Facebook page (the desperation to be 'liked' crept back in too).
Later I handed out postcards with my Valentine's day artwork on it.
In all, I must've handed out 120 odd postcards?
I still had plenty left, but the thing closed at 6pm, and we got there at 4:30pm (the tube was seriously MESSED UP on Saturday!!! ..And before that, we were already running late). I never really got to enjoy the event but did manage to get rid of a lot of promotional material.
Later, we hit the familiar piss filled streets of the West End and partied. Hard.
I chatted to a tonne of chicks and had a damn good time. Standard.
But nothing much beyond that. I handed my card to a few of them.. and managed to catch one of them showing it to her friends, after which they all had a good laugh! Haha.
What's the matter? Never seen a business card with a handsome head shot on it before??
Bitch.
But what do you expect with someone from Brisbane?
I woke up to another dark 'n dreary Sunday afternoon and monitored my website.
Despite the blitz, there was no new traffic to my site and not even one new like on my Facebook page.
Instead of spending my money on all that promotional material, it would've been more effective if I just gave each person a quid and asked them for a favour.
None of those chicks I chatted to got back to me either, but that was expected.
Unless you leave with a number, you're leaving with nothing. Chicks very rarely make first contact, and if they do, it's after you've already 'connected'.
Demoralising defeat.
Again.
Working hard and getting nowhere.
Fighting the current instead of letting it drag me to the way of the world...
Forever swimming on the spot as others race by in their luxury yachts.
I'm now well into my thirties and if you told me back when I was twenty one that this is what my life would be, I'd probably hit you. I definitely wouldn't have believed you. It would be unfathomable to the man I had just become that this is the man I would end up being.
Mine was meant to be the road to the high life, not the path to the gutter.
It is an unrequited life. A life of longing, of writing and of drawing...
Money is a constant source of anxiety.
What little money I can leverage away from the banks (HSBC bought the deeds to my soul back when I was a student, providing me with a steady stream of credit at an extortionate rate) I spend on repaying the debts I already owe, on promotion no one wants to see and on taking out girls who don't appreciate the effort.
Everything else goes on the essentials of living:
Great nights out, celebratory gifts for others.. and face wash.
Don't worry Daily Mail readers, I'm not on the dole.
Thank God for my Indian parents. If it wasn't for their hard fought generosity (they've been battling my ideals every step of the way), I'd have died on the streets many moons ago.. or just, y'know, got a regular job.
I do as I please, every single day, but that feeling that I'm missing out on life never subsides.
You can reconcile the loss of holidays abroad, of not having the latest gadgets or fashionable clothes.. even not having a roof over your head that you can call your own.
There are greater adventures to be had in life. Adventures that take you to dizzying highs and sickening lows, all without leaving the comfort of your chair.
One cannot reconcile having tasted little in life and also never having tasted that.
I've walked this Earth for over thirty years and the only love I've ever known has come from my parents and my siblings.
They say that to get love you have to be willing to give love first. It speaks of the coldness of my heart that I haven't ever been willing to give love, nor tasted the warmth of receiving it.
The words of the Dean Martin song echo through my mind in a constant loop.
Something's wrong with this picture. Something's wrong with this lifestyle. Something's definitely wrong with this man.
I've had enough.
Enough of dreaming.
Enough of chasing.
Enough of putting a brave face on it.
It's in my hands.
Time for these hands to reveal their worth.
I just want to disappear for a while.
Hide away and go into hibernation, instead of constantly screaming 'Look at me! Like my Facebook page!' like some attention seeking child.
What to do I get out of it anyway?
Not a damn thing.
What difference does it make if I have an audience of one or one million?
None whatsoever.
Forever bribing people to like me with my wit.
The joker.
The entertainer.
The spectacle.
The car crash happening in slow motion for all to see, as they go about their busy lives and make something of themselves.. as I slide ever downwards into the thick deluge of bullshit that has become my life.
This isn't the way my life was supposed to be.
Once upon a time, when no one knew who I was, I showed promise. I had potential. It's time for me to get back on that path.
I won't dwell on my situation, but I will ask the question:
'What do I have to do right now to have the life I want?'
Focus on that.
Disappear.
Re-appear only when I become someone.
When I've done something worth shouting about.
–
Until then, no more blogs.
No more cringe-worthy self promotion.
No more desperate pleas to be 'liked'.
No more pursuing unsuitable women and then feeling like shit afterwards.
Simply, no more.
The website, the Facebook page and the Twitter will all still be there, but I won't be updating them.
This is my final blog.
I will return.
Someday...
'Til then, my grateful thanks to the precious few that showed they cared.
It will always mean a lot.
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