Rejection AGH!!

I’m so afraid of rejection!!

But not really.

…Or am I?

What’s there to be afraid of anyway?  I think that most people living in trailer parks (no offense if I know you and you live in a trailer park… although I can’t think of anyone who fits both of those categories) are or were afraid of rejection.  You can’t really get anywhere without taking some sort of risk. 

And I know, I KNOW, you’ve heard that a thousand times.  And hearing it one more time from some kid in college ain’t gonna mean shit, but if there is one thing I’m learning it’s that in order to get absolutely ANYTHING worth having, you gotta risk something.  Whether that be your safeguarded pride, so carefully protected and sparsely nurtured through those difficult years spent in the intimidating halls of high school, or your heart, delicate and innocent, primed for some sort of razor-clawed creature to rip into it and leave you the scraps.

Those things have to be wagered at some point.  Because you win even if you lose.  Losing sucks, I am aware of this.  As a competitive ass-hole, I am UBER aware of this.  But you get something from losing, no matter what; sometimes you get more than you would have from winning.

You want an example?  You’re really that needy?  A little high-maintenance, but I guess I can oblige. 

When I was younger I wrote a fantasy novel.  I applied to probably 25 different agencies, trying to get picked up and noticed.  I received probably 15 rejections (the others I just never heard back from).  My very first rejection letter is taped to my door back home.  Every time I look at it I am reminded of how badly I want to succeed, how badly I want to – one day – prove to that agency that turned me down that they made a mistake.

Okay, well, to be fair, they probably made the right call there; I was fifteen and it’s highly unlikely that the quality of writing was halfway as decent as I thought it was.  But still!

Point is, no matter how much failing may suck, there is no reason not to try.

I sound like I’m preaching…

‘Cause, what the hell do I know, after all?

It’s seeming like the theme of these posts is leaning towards the fact that I feel like I’m 12 and don’t know anything…

Excellent.