The Final Book: Gods.

Mythology. Blasphemy. Transcendence.

"SW Hammond's debut novel is an epic story with exquisite prose and the depth and scope of meticulous research." –SA Schlueter

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I’ve been sitting here for over an hour making grand statements of life, sharing with you profound thoughts of enlightenment, and force-feeding some of the worst bullshit I’ve ever concocted.  Why?  Pride, sorrow, confusion, and lack of closure have made me more of a narcissistic prick than ever.  Instead of dealing with the crux of the issue, I self-project mildly thought provoking ideas as amazing personal epiphanies.  By convincing you that I’m a profound, put together, self-aware individual on the cusp of greatness, I may just convince myself as well.

I was rejected.  While I have been rejected thousands of times professionally (the music industry is quite subjective), I have never been rejected on a personal level.  Throughout life, I have had support.  My teachers, guidance counselors, coaches, friends, and mentors have always told me that the sky was the limit.  I could achieve anything I ever wanted, and that I would.  My parents are the worst offenders.  They have unconditionally supported me in anything that I wanted to do and believed with their entire heart that I could do it.  

On top of all of this, they have all been right for the most part.  I wanted to surf: I have surfed all over the world, have been published in surfing magazines, and have personally met and surfed with some of biggest professional surfers of all time.  I wanted to do music: I’ve worked at record labels, I worked for Sony, I traveled all around North America on tour bus, and I have become friends with some of my favorite artists.

I now want to fall in love.  I’ve had exactly 10 years of traveling, partying, adventure, inconsistency, and all of the randomness that goes along with “finding yourself”.  I’m ready to start the middle section of my life- the part where I’m not so self centered, where I devote to woman rather than career, and care more about my family than anything else on earth.  I would like to coach a little league team for my son before I’m 65 or teach my daughter how to catch a wave while I can still stand up.  I want to smile secretly each day in disbelief that this woman chose to be with me, but also know that I’ve truly earned her respect and love. 

Now, these are all grand notions and I understand that things never work out as planned- but you have to start somewhere.  In order to even have a chance at any of this you have to say hi.  You have to be genuine.  You have to become vulnerable and leave yourself in the hands of someone else.

I recently did that.  Now, it wasn’t nearly as serious as what I just described but we were quite close, I saw pieces of myself in her, and I adored every moment I spent with her.  I had no idea if she was going to be my wife or the mother of my children but it was the first time my gut didn’t reject the idea.  I mean, every girl I’ve dated has been awesome but deep down I knew it wasn't going to last… I didn’t know that with this one.  She had… potential.

I suppose it’s pretty sad to be in my late 20’s and just now dealing with being rejected by the opposite sex.  I mean, I’m not that good with the ladies but any time I sincerely asked one out, they always gave me a shot.  I know I’ve been rejected by girls in bars and clubs, but that didn’t matter because it never meant anything.  A stranger telling you to get lost doesn’t have the same effect as someone you already care about.

I’d like to say that this has been a good lesson, but I truly haven’t learned anything.  I could have approached things differently, maybe not have been as bold or let things develop more organically, but that’s not what I’m hung up on.  After laying it all on the line and telling her how I felt, all I got was a polite “no thanks.”  No explanation, no rebuttal, no stupid “it’s not you, it’s me” or “hang in there, tiger- there’s plenty of fish in the sea.”  A simple “no” and me quietly accepting and going my own way. 

At this point I’m not sure if a reason why even matters.  An explanation would just further dilute the end result of her not wanting me.  It’s been tough to swallow, especially now finally being in the mindset of actually wanting to care for someone.  Maybe this is karma- me starting to pay off my 10 years of debauchery and girls I said “no thanks” to.  Maybe she made the biggest mistake of her life and that 1 cat will multiply into 4 by the time she’s in her mid 30’s.  Or maybe it took her “potential” to help bring one chapter to a close and a new one to begin with an entirely different outlook.

In the end, the thing I can take away from all of this is that I tried.  Trying and failing feels much better than never knowing- maybe that was my lesson…

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