THE CREATOR OF THE WALKING DEAD TOOK OVER PRODUCTION OF SUPERFIGHT. That is what I have wanted to yell for months, and have only just this minute been allowed to say. I went to them to ask them to make a Walking Dead expansion. They said yes, and that they want to help with everything. While leaving me in place for creative decisions. Now I’m heading to San Diego to speak on a panel with Kirkman and Norman Reedus (Daryl on The Walking Dead) about the future of Skybound (Kirkman’a company) and Superfight. At the same time, I was asked by Wizard World to fly around the country and play the game on celebrity panels. That is my life now. It’s perfect. This means great things for Superfight. That’s obvious. But anyone who thinks that’s where my excitement ends hasn’t been paying attention to me. Because more importantly, it means amazing things for Find the Starlight. I know Find the Starlight is weird. And hard to follow. That was intentional. It won’t always be that way. And now that this is my life, it is about to become something nobody is ready for. Least of all me. So that’s it. I took lemons, made lemonade, froze that lemonade in the shape of a club, and used that club to beat the shit out of this life and its stupid lemon-handing face.
"GRANDMA’S MY NAME & SPOILIN’S MY GAME." I want to get this license plate frame. Then I’ll pull up to people at red lights and yell shit like "SNAPE KILLS DUMBLEDORE." Then I’ll flip them off, smoke my tires, and speed away. Then I’ll wait for them at the next light. When they get there, I’ll say "Oh, and my name is Grandma." Then we will all laugh, and I’ll find a new therapist.
So I’m standing there watching the kids on a ride. These two guys and a lady walk up, then stop and have a conversation within licking distance of my face. The picture didn’t quite capture it, but the other dude is RIGHT in front of me. So I decided to make it a little endurance test. He starts talking about where they are going to eat. I start yelling senseless shit to my kids who are on a loud ride and who clearly cannot hear me. Because between the two of us, I’m still the one more aware of the fact that there are other people on earth. So I’m yelling shit like RIDE THE LIGHTNING, CHAMP! And they stay. He can feel my breath. But he knows I’m holding my ground. He asks where they should eat. Again. I say “Chili’s.” And that was apparently the final straw. Because they left. Probably to get some queso and be horrible.
Unsolicited fact about myself: I listen to this before going on stages. The whole album if there is time, Headlines if there isn’t. These days it’s pretty much on loop. Say what you want about whatever you want, but not about this album, and not in front of me unless you want to talk about it.
I guess I’d better put this here before the announcement. Until somewhat recently, I struggled with thoughts of suicide. I never told anyone. Looking back, I can blame a lot of things and one person (if he can be called that), but it was my recent success that caused real problems. I had made a life out of dying. I ate more than I should have. Drank more than I should have, started abusing substances I shouldn’t have, got involved with people I shouldn’t have, did whatever I could to hurt myself without actually outright hurting myself. Because I fucking hated myself. Because that’s just how it was for me. And the success of the things I made opposed that. Tipped the scales, I guess. So the self-harm increased to match it. And I succeeded at keeping myself miserable. Until one day things got too good. I got on a plane (not this one), absolutely convinced it was going down. That’s another story. But it didn’t. And I had to accept that my life was going to be good whether I could accept it or not. Worse, I had to accept that it had always been mostly good. Well, starting around the age of 19. I stayed sad because I wanted to. Because it was what I knew. But I have now lived that 19-year-old’s life twice. Once through things he could not control, and once through things he could. And I guess I just got tired of hating myself. I got a lot of support online. Mostly because I begged for it through more attention whoring than should be legal, but I can forgive myself for that. For all of it, really. Because the universe and I have come to a sort of agreement. Now: why put this here, or anywhere? Well, somewhere at my core is a man who wants to help people. It’s why I taught. Why I helped people with disabilities. Why I was in the ministry until I lost my faith. Why I love being a father. And maybe someone else will read this, and see that even when you don’t want the darkness to end, it still sometimes does. Just on its own. I can’t explain it, and I don’t care to try. These days I’m happy to just accept it. But what I wish someone had told me some time ago is this: if you make it long enough, one day you’ll actually WANT to be happy. So make it long enough.