NEWSWEEK article about Facebook's "Porn Cops." Ultimately in the end I am the only one to blame for being booted. I don’t know why suddenly I have such a compulsion to shove my style of imagery down others throats. It is not my nature and therefore has remained hidden for all these years. These are becoming desperate times and I have become a desperate man to think I could sell the soul of my self for mass consumptions. In this seemingly soulless world is it I who have become soulless? I have felt a sort of frenzy building every since I began to connect to so many different people on Facebook, a mass of often unrecognizable strangers. Expecting acceptance from a world I don’t know or understand? I think in the beginning this project was very good. It had potential and best of all it had my heart. There were only a few people looking at it then and they were people I knew and wanted to let into my world. It was about them, gaining insight into a man who felt he had reached the end of his potential, but still had something to say. It was all, pure me, raw, exposed to core, vulnerable, isolated, alone. I miss that part of me and I feel with this Facebook shut down it is time to get back to the core of who I am and what brought me here in the first place. I am about to hit 50 here in about a month and there is a terror so deep inside of me gripping and holding on to me. I fear age, because I fear becoming incapacitated. Having faced cancer, which was limiting it gave me a taste of what that fear may become. My mind will never cease, I am a doer and have always been a doer: so what happens when my mind is pulsing with ideas of creativity and body says no more. I had a dear friend Gilbert, who was my greatest mentor, I witnessed slowly die from a brain tumor many years ago. I could look into his eyes and see it as alert as ever and his body slowly succumbed to paralysis and eventually ceased moving all together, eventually needing help with the basic functions. I devoted the last six months of his life to maintaining every ounce of his dignity throughout the process. I still look into his eyes and see the struggle of his brilliant mind, trapped in a decaying body. This is the most fearful truths we face within ourselves. Tears fill my eyes this morning as I think back to Gilbert, the man who has given me everything, a man who restored my dignity when I felt I had fallen. Who has given me this precious dream of becoming an artist. Who saw a vision in me when I couldn’t quite grasp it for myself. Today my heart aches as if it is about to break again.
Perhaps this is too much to examine ones self every day? I know I have changed and not necessarily for the better. I wanted the glory of the dream to come true, so I no longer would have to struggle. But looking back now I see that I have been consumed and tainted by this journey I have been on. I am actually a bit ashamed because I feel I have lost my vision. It’s hard to continue to examine oneself every day and find truths. In fact I am not even sure it’s healthy any more. There is no easy path.
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