I’ll miss it.
2014 will prove to be my last unfamous year. In 2015, after a slow start coupled with some shocking news (you’ll debate whether or not you saw it coming but agree I was kinda a douche), I’ll be famous and my new, better life will begin. But I’ve always been a man who looks back longingly on humble beginnings. What I wouldn’t give for one more week as a 12 year old in Jamaica, Queens, or one more day as a 20 year old painting a college theater set all night, or one more hour teaching 7th grade Social Studies to rowdy kids when I was just out of college.
And when I’m famous I’m sure I’d give everything to remember what it was like to not have…well…everything.
2014 will be the last year I worried. I know what you’re thinking, “Isn’t that relief?” Well that’s exactly the problem, I also won’t get any relief. No need for it. Like a lollipop after a good doctor’s visit - no shot, no lollipop.
And I’ll miss real friendship, too. My friends now are actual people who are with me not to be close to riches or fame. There’s no Hollywood back-scratching. As my friend Francis once said, “I have nothing to gain by being friends with Alexis and instead am often dragged into his sick psychological cat-and-mouse games.”
At least that’s what he wrote that time he left his gmail open on my laptop.
My friends in 2015, on the other hand, will either be other famous actors whose soul left them long ago or hangers-on desperate for a “piece of the pie.” As my mom would always say, “If you want a piece of the pie, you better bring a knife.”
It’ll be a battle every day.
Last but not least, the thing I’ll miss most about not being famous back in 2014 is myself. I’m myself quite a lot, but next year in 2015 when I’m famous, I’ll have to go on talk shows, and act in movies and tv, and talk to publicists and producers, and impress Kevin Spacey at parties. I’ll rarely be the “real” me. When would I have the time?
And then one day a party at my mansion will end, everybody leaves. And I’ll look in the mirror and wonder, “Who are you? Who the fuck am I looking at?”
And then I’ll look at the cover of People and go, “Oh, that’s me.”
I would have known that in 2014.