It is 4:44pm and I have just arisen.
Trying to keep a regular sleep schedule is like one seasoned serial killer hunting another seasoned serial killer. I know going to sleep at 6am and waking up in the afternoon fucks with my depression, it makes it worse.
At any rate, here we are.
I need to finish a short story.
I need to finish my obscure article about love for some obscure magazine.
I know I said I wouldn’t do another technical writing project but sometimes it’s hard to refuse the money (I know, I talk a lot of shit about money too but there you go) so I need to finish that as well.
Now I need to start another article about who knows what because the person only ordered it but never said what for. For fucks sake people.
And as I speak they send me a request to write for their website on the potential dangers of current practices in Psychiatry. What a coincidence that I’ve read several books on this since I was 15. I think it’s time to have some fun.
If anyone ever wants me to write something, they should know the LAST thing to ask me is what’s wrong with the industry. That’s . . . that’s a professional rant waiting to happen. I slaughter bitches.
I should have started a YouTube Channel instead. You know, go find a bunch of black dudes “in the hood” and pretend to stab one in the back and then when his friends try and jump me I’ll scream “It’s a prank! It’s a prank dude, fuck!” and act like it’s their fault for getting pissed off. I’ll point out the camera people running also screaming “it’s a prank” and then thank whatever diety pops into my head first that I didn’t get shot. I’ll properly title it “Getting Stabbed in the Hood–Prank Gone Wrong!”. Then when I have eight million subscribers and make two million, three million dollars for being a dumb ass, I’ll start my own vlog channel and show everyone how to party like a rich asshole.
Or I could start a YouTube gaming channel. Play Until Dawn and act like the jump scares give me a heart attack. Play small developer games like Five Nights At Freddy’s (fuck I’m so over that bullshit) or free games from Steam and promote some business for them. When YouTube sends me a copyright notice I won’t trip; I’ll just create a new channel and build my subscribers up until bitches won’t fuck with me any more. Once I surpass PewDiePie’s 40 million, I’ll be making a good 7.4 million dollars (or more) and I’ll write my own book (which I’ll do anyway) and I’ll have my own game created. I’ll also start a vlog channel and document my trips across the world to the places you can’t afford because you’re not funny (or stupid) enough to entertain seven year old’s online.
Then I can rightfully start a Vine account and show you seven second snippets from my life. I’ll ride around on a PhunkeeDuck and pretend to be “Gangsta” or I’ll make a million different “What Yo’ Mom Do When You Don’t Wake Up For Skool” snippets and when I get a million views and followers and get promotions and commercials calling me for business, I’ll remind all my YouTube followers to also follow me on Vine and Twitter and Facebook.
One good thing out of all this ridiculousness? I’ll be able to pay for medical school, my car repairs, and a place to live.
All the touring, the craziness, the partnership with YouTube would probably get to be too much for me.
Besides, how many women are popular gamers on YouTube? I know of one or two who have a few million subscribers but their view count is in the low hundreds of thousands or thousands. You see, starting a YouTube account with the intention for money is like starting a small business. I read an article on the professional aspect of it from a guy who’s been partnered with them for years before “Let’s Play’s” and before PewDiePie. The article is a few pages long and he outlines literally everything you’d need to do, the importance of subscribers over views and the importance of views once you have subscribers.
YouTube Is The Future and The Future Is Now.
Hold on to your horses.
Your robotic horses that transform into your car and fly you to the moon when you want to be alone.
I would write more, but as you can see above I already have a shit ton shoved up my ass over the next three days. So for now, I bid thee farewell.
And no, I’m not sharing the YouTube business article. It’s mine. It’s going to make me a rich asshole.