Juice Nothing Blog: The Insides Of Jared Woods On The Outside: Big Fat Commercial Writing Dump (part ii)

"And he said, 'Truly, I say to you, no prophet is acceptable in his hometown.'" - Luke 4:24

If you hold out the human race in your extended arms and look at it from this distance, it's interesting how many of life's decisions revolve around comfort. Certainly, you can ridicule the lazy man who uses his toe to change the television channel as a negative example of this pursuit, but "comfort" is not necessarily synonymous with "laziness" alone. In fact, those who work hard and strive for a better future are doing so for reasons of comfort, whether they realise it or not. More money, a nice place to call home, a job you excel at, a loving partner who cradles your crumbled body to sleep... all of these goals could easily be argued as pleasures based on comfort. For what is an uncomfortable pleasure anyway? Anal sex? I wouldn't know.

This observation seems less than simple when it comes to my own experiences. I've started to recognise personal comfort as somewhat of an enemy. When I'm comfortable in my life, that's when I begin to think, and if history has taught me anything, thought is not a safe environment for me to be in. Hey, remember that time I quit my job at the end of 2017? To become a full-time writer? Which I detailed in Big Fat Commercial Writing Dump (part i)? Totally abandoning my safety net and scrubbing my work history clean? That was a period of pure terror, man! I was barely scraping rent money together and there was no CV boat coming to my rescue and my girlfriend has just left me! And yet, when I look back on these events, there are heart shapes in my pupils. I was in full survival mode. I had to eat bugs and build a shelter out of empty baked bean tins. I was forced to see what I was made of, and as it turns out, I am made of fear. Fear of failure. It's a substance of much buoyancy.

After a while, I found a place to stand, my head was above water, the money began to collect beneath my feet, and following shortly afterward, I was standing in the sun, arms stretched upward, drying out. So nice and warm! But if this was indeed the goal, then why was I so confused? The UV light was cripsing my eyelids and then microwaving my mental health. The Beatles song Here, There and Everywhere became the theme to my general stability. I had manifested a big blob of clay and then modeled it into the perfect shape, one which I had always dreamed I would one day model, but my inside world refused to collaborate. Despite taking complete control of my life (as far as any third-party could see), I was still the same old bleak ghost within, a monotone moan of misery like a warped vinyl with lock groove. There goes that self-help book idea I had FUCK.

And it was around this point when I started to ask questions.
The real questions, such as, "Why am I here?".
And I don't mean, like, in some existential fashion.
I mean more like, "Why am I here?? Why am I in London?".

I don’t have a job which requires anything but wifi.
I don’t have a girlfriend, gross lol.
I don’t have a baby as fas as I know.
I don’t have a mortgage.
I don’t have any debt.
I don’t even have a fucking Oyster card.
And I'm pretty sure all of my friends hate me anyway.

Couple this with the Brexit Monster looming above our dark skies, salivating to take a bite out of my long-earned passport, and the illuminated arrows were clear. I see you.

It's also worth mentioning that 08/08/18 marked my 10th year anniversary in London to the day, and 10 is my lucky number, so... Omen? Omg? Oh, man! Amen.

And with that, I decided it was time. It was time to try and outrun my depression once for all. So let's go. Go where? Nobody’s business. But I assure you it’s not one place. It’s gonna be many, many places. And I will not rest until I find a reason to live, or at least a pretty place to die.

What's important to note above all else is that I love London, you hear me? I LOVE IT. Never has any region in the whole wide world wide web felt so much like a home to me, and I only got here when I was 23 years old, so that's saying a lot. When I picture London as a personified figure, my heart yelps legit physical pain in regards to my decision. It feels like I'm cheating on the love of my life. But then I have to remind myself that London is not a person, it's a city. She'll be here when I need her, and I'll probably need her next summer. In the meantime, I've got to take this chance while I have it, because who knows when I'll get such an opportunity again? All it takes is one pregnancy or a bad Brexit deal to fuck everything up.

That said, maybe I'll come back running after one long month of panic attacks. And if that's the case, I ask you to please forget everything I just said. Thanks!

This lengthy speech is slightly premature, as I will only be leaving in December due to a pesky little lease I signed my name on a while ago. But I wanted to make this announcement now to address the future of Juice Nothing with time to spare. Regrettably, I imagine this blog's content is going to be reduced substantially over the course of 2019. I imagine this because I've never tried writing on the road before, and if anything is going to get throttled, it would be the shit that doesn't pay me. Furthermore, I am currently in the process of authoring three books, and I really need to dedicate some more resources to that. Because I'm not a kid anymore and a blog is not a particularly good use of energy. That said, maybe we could try a new piece every two months instead of one? Or maybe I'll be really bored and lonely, and I'll end up writing much more? Or perhaps I'll compose a world-famous guide called "How I Travelled to 10 Different Countries in Six Months and Saved Money" because that's my actual plan.

Ok, so exciting times ahead then! To close things off, I'd like to spit out a list of all the many many writing bits I have sprinkled throughout the web since we last spoke in March. Look, you see? I've been a busy boi. Here is the Jared fix you never asked for. I hope you're well though.

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Tuesday, 21 August 2018

Big Fat Commercial Writing Dump (part ii)

Pencilmation Scripts

Bolde Articles

Tips for Dave Articles

Millions of Miscellaneous Ghostwritten Health Articles

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