I just upped the price to all of my books. As in my previous post here, I'm travelling down a path to be an artist that speaks to my soul more than my pocket book. I've religiously sold my books for 99cents. All 7 of them. Last month that ship sailed. I realised that at some point I have to act like I'm worth something in order for the world to think I'm worth something.
It's not just an art thing. I spend more time believing that in the grand scheme of things life is overrated. Comming up on middle age and I'm a dishwasher, three-time college drop out, seven times published but still broke author, single and depressed. That sums up my entire existence. What is the point of it all and where do I fit in in the grand scheme of things. All signs point to nowhere. That sums up the value I place in my existence.
When you've made it so far in life and you're still in the same place you question why you even bother sometimes. And then you question if any of the good things people say to you are true. You reach a point where you convince yourself it's all a lie and you'll never amount to anything. If you were it would've happened already. Time is running out and maybe it's time to face the music and give up.
You realise you are only doing because you can. As if the up and go up and went but the vessel is still moving on anyway. Just out of habit. And you're searching for some kind of way to convince yourself that you are indeed somebody, but you can't. The evidence just isn't there. And you're stuck in this depressive limbo without the will to go on and without the ability to stop and so you just release it somehow. But it just comebacks and circles around living you in a perpetual state of drowning without ever actually drowning.
This is me. Day in day out. So I changed the price of my books. They are worth way more than three dollars but that's more than 99cents. Undervaluing the work, the patience, the time and creation that went into putting a part of me out into the world to digest. Pick apart, destroy love or enjoy. Only to have no one drop a dollar for it. Add that 99 cents to the hundreds in their Amazon shopping cart. If you can't love me at a discount then I won't give it. I'll put my material out to the world at a price that it deserves and at least now when I get zero interest I'll know that I gave what I was worth and didn't sell myself short.
The next step is to put this forth into my real life. Take this mentally screwed up me in all his imbalance and put him forth-- just as is. Faults and all and not care about being judged, appreciated or anything based on the me that's taken me over thirty years to create. I'm going to be happy with this me even if this me has to travel through life alone.
Sometimes you have to know your own worth. and more importantly, believe in it. Am I there yet, most certainly not. But I'm a work in progress. As most humans are. Only time will tell if just being unabashedly me with no excuses will yield some self-love results. And maybe convince others that I am worth it and always have been.
One thing I do know is there is no if you can't love me at my worst you don't deserve me at my best. I don't exist in halves. All my pieces come together to create a whole even if he is one hot mess most of the time. If you can't love ME, then that's a wrap. Cause my good, my best and my in-betweens come as a package deal and that is non-negotiable.
