AYMAC: I'm Terrified I'll Never Make It

There’s this fear I don’t say out loud enough. Not because it isn’t real—but because it is. And if I say it, it gets heavier. Thicker. Like the air gains weight every time I admit it:

I’m scared I’m never gonna make it. In comedy. Or music. Not because I don’t love it—but because I love it too much. Obsessively. Unreasonably. Like… I study it like a wizard proving miracles aren’t magic. Because they aren’t. If you study magic, it’s just tension, misdirection, release. Same with jokes. Once you see the trick, the room changes.

I’m aging. Not in the cool jazz-sage way. More like “my back hurts from dreaming about back pain.”

Friends? Gone. Not because I suck. (Okay maybe a little.) But because life trajectories diverge. They got families. I got new pajamas. I moved rooms—not apartments. Just… rooms.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ve been chasing a ghost or a god. Then I spend 45 minutes breaking down that line for punchability.

Then came the pandemic. For most people it was lockdown. For me, it was confirmation: “Your lifestyle is now government approved.”

I wasn’t socially distancing. I was winning. Masked-up overthinkers unite.

I live alone now. With a cat. Because my dog was stolen—I mean, technically re-homed. In a breakup. He got the girl and the emotional support animal. I got the ghost of a furry companion and a passive-aggressive cat who drinks out of my water glass.

I caught my cat watching Jordan Peterson. Could’ve been autoplay. Still. Suspicious.

I’ve got autism. Not the quirky math-genius kind. The kind where your entire nervous system is WiFi-tuned to every emotional signal in a room but no one else can read yours.

It’s like explaining quantum physics using memes—no matter how precise you are, someone’s gonna think you’re just being weird on purpose.

Kamala Harris once talked about "perception" like it was a strategic weapon. Hillary Clinton literally warned us not to say certain words because of how powerful they are. That’s not politics—that’s *dark magic poorly disguised as branding.*

I break down comedy scientifically—timing, structure, social framing, energy shifts, status dynamics, tone modulation, brain chemistry triggers, audience frequency... it’s all math and magic. And I’m obsessed with it. If comedy had a CIA, I’d be running their internal training