If you are reading this then it is already too late. But what five years ago would have been a career-suicide note, I hope this time, can be something in the way of an explanation. I am writing to any of my friends and family who now have their faces in their hands and are slugging on bottles of whisky, silently mouthing the word ‘why?’ between gulps.
Imagine the scenario:
A boy is at the dizzying crossroads in his life where he can’t work out where the path starts that leads to adulthood/family/normality. He gets a surprise record deal for a band that was only ever intended to be a leisure pursuit; A diversion. After much hard work, that band becomes successful. While pausing to look for the path his phone rings. ‘Of course I will go on your reality TV show’ he is overheard replying… OK, this third person shit is even starting to irritate me and I’m the one pushing the keys. The main sway is that I always felt I was adapting to a professional life that was sucking me with it.
I got married and the backlash caused me to become very defensive, which is a hugely unattractive trait and one comes across as bratty and arrogant in overcompensation. The marriage… right… it honestly seemed like a normal thing to do in the mad, Mickey-mouse world that we had built around us. We loved each other, hated to be apart, and to a certain extent never wanted the Disney-princess-castle to crumble. In all honesty I am second - guessing because, in reality, I have no clue what the fuck I was thinking.
I finally found the path but in some ways it was too late. I still feel as though I carry the ghost of my youth with me. Whenever I work with a new artist I smile and make a joke but the ghost walks off Never Mind the Buzzcocks or dresses up in an ill-informed mod-revivalist costume. Genuinely my primary reason for walking up those stairs is because I had the (first) time of my life in that house, but I also want to exorcise that snotty little ghost and let people see the adult that has replaced him. I have worked so hard to build myself a life that I love, a career that I love, (a cat that I love) and for the first time in my life I am happy with who I am. I just want everyone else to be happy for me and with me!
Anyway this isn’t all about me. It’s about Ahmed, Shabnam, Bubbles and whomever else I find myself sharing bathwater with. I used to feel the need to disguise my compulsive obsession for Big Brother behind a veil of excuses. Whether it is a post-modern study of social Darwinism or an excuse to look at boobies it undeniably has something to teach in the way of tolerance and I can’t wait make the best mistake again!