Every second of [filming Deadpool], I couldn’t take a second for granted. For me, it’s eleven years of waiting to do this guy. And that doesn’t happen too often in a business like this, when you wait that long and they don’t just say “Well, you can’t do this anymore because you’re old." But this was one of those characters we all hung in there for.
if you could send your younger self a message, what would it be?
I once sent an email to my future self when I was about 16, maybe 17. I forgot about it until I opened it last year. All it said was help.
I can’t send a message back to that person, I can’t reach back and assure myself at one of the lowest points of my life that things would get better, although sometimes I still live in hope of a vortex opening up and an old biddy with withered hands and an understanding smile would reach out take me by the hand and tell me “shits still fucked, but you’re gonna be okay regardless, incidentally here are the lottery numbers for 2015…”
So in lieu of being able to tell myself, I’ll tell anyone else who might need it.
Life is by nature, a state of impermanence, nothing really matters but kindness and people will forgive, if not forget, most of your worst perceived transgressions. So don’t worry about saying the wrong thing, or be afraid of saying sorry when you do. Perfection is a myth created by people to compensate for their own flaws and to make others feel worse than they do. All you can do is your best, not someone else’s. Be kind, but don’t be ignorant either, don’t let people hurt you for the sake of kindness, but also don’t harbor hatred. In the most basic form:
Do no harm, but take no shit.
Look at the stars and marvel at your insignificance in the universe, but know you are stardust and part of the explosive nebula of life in your own right, part of a blazing cosmos hurtling through eternity without cause or reason. If it frightens you, laugh. Scream like you’re on a roller coaster and realize that you might want to get off the whole time you’re spinning round, but when the time comes to stop, inevitably you’ll wish you could do it over again.
Rip the band aid off of life and let the air get at your wounds, stop struggling to reach the surface and know you’ll float before you drown, even if it feels like dark and terrible things are trying to drag you under. They’ll win if you let them, and you’re far stronger than them, even if you don’t know it yet. You just have to float. Purpose will come to you in time.
Have sex with the people you want to, and disregard anyone who shames you for it. Don’t have sex if you don’t want to and disregard anyone who shames you for it. Have sex with yourself, or don’t, and learn to love your body for what it is, not for what it isn’t. Disregard anyone who shames you for it.
Stay hydrated and try to eat healthily most days, but if you can’t that’s okay too. Sometimes you’ll need to sleep a lot, call it hibernation and remember bears can run at 35mph and anything that can run that fast is not lazy. Realize most of this is inane rambling but hopefully feel comforted by it anyway because we are animals that like to be told stories, and some of the best are filled with nonsense.
And while I don’t know the lottery numbers I do know that for the most part, shits still fucked, but you’re gonna be okay regardless <3