I love you.

That’s I guess the best way I can express it. As a collective whole, I’m starting to regain faith in humanity. However, that’s a logical fallacy. Appeal to popularity. Just because something is more commonly help as fact, does not make it one.

People have started being very nice to me lately. I’m not taking it well. I suppose many would say these are good problems. Fair enough. But. When your motivation has always been to prove them wrong about you, what do you do when people start believing in you? Do bad to prove them wrong again? It’s strange to argue against your own hard fought respect.

I prefer to be the one they didn’t see coming. I’m going to be wearing more hats. I understands this seems over reactive. You want to say, “Well, Sean. You’re not really anything yet in the larger scale of things. This seems premature to have an issue with minute notoriety.” I agree. But, I would also argue that the ego is a slippery slope. If I give in to the simplest of compliments, relax, or god forbid enjoy any modicum of success, I’m more likely to not focus on my next steps. You must focus. If I don’t know where I’m going, how can I get there?

Many of my friends have left for L.A. or N.Y. apparently fleeing Chicago’s lack of an initial. I feel this thinking is backwards. If you consider stand-up a job, there are two takes on it. Either you can look for a job, or you can create one. This is the business side of stand-up. People move to the coasts to look for a better job in front of a more important crowd. Fuck. That.

What’s wrong with this crowd? Nothing. They’re an audience like any other and just as important. It’s not my fault you thought your lack of success was based on your location. Some people were better designed for the coasts and I understand that. But don’t blame your career on our city. I wouldn’t dare move on until I knew I had exhausted all of the resources of Chicago. This is my Tunisia.

This city inspires me to work. I love the weight placed on respect here. The people here inspire me to write. And part of that, requires that I remain grounded, always. I don’t speak of the praise people send me often for many reasons both obvious and subtle. But even in its smallest form, it’s discomforting. I do not accept your kindness. If I do, I’ll become complacent and just peddle the same disjointed hour of comedy desperately trying to stand out without doing anything different. To stay ahead of the curve, I must reshape myself constantly. It’s better off for you as an audience and me as a comic, that I be mean to myself.

As a side note; I’m out of beer now and only have cherry coke to replace it. Not the worst scenario but definitely a curve ball.

I want to create a machine. An assembly line for stand-up comedy. Where in, I would be able to select 2 topics and write 20+ on each within 6 months and then sharpen it for another 6 and record a new album every year or so. This would allow people to purchase my albums based on the subject and thus slightly separate me from the mass of white male comics. Hey he looks like everyone else, but it’s about a subject I wanna hear jokes about.

But. To create this machine, I need a place to practice. In peace. I could peddle my hour or take the advantage of my situation and build a machine that will be strong enough to cope with attention. At this point, I am unable to deal with even the smallest kindness. If I’m able to meet my goals, I’ll be able to produce another 40 and sell one 45 before I turn thirty. That’s a lot of work. And I can’t work if people are being kind to me. Jerks.

I need your scrutiny as much as your laughs.

Well this was all terribly self-indulgent. Luckily, the act of writing anything and putting it online is indulgent in that you believed something you thought should be shared. Other’s concern should be taken into account before sharing anything and not for granted. This is why I don’t tell people when I update this. I’m not so arrogant as to believe anyone will read this. 😉