My memories of the good old days were way back when I cared about school and believed in God and loved my parents and everyone thought I was going to be a success one day and I wore big glasses and a stupid sweater and everyone in class didn’t hate me for it and I cried all the time for whatever reason any reason and eventually everyone stopped liking me so I stopped liking class but at the time it was all good and especially teachers liked me, too. I was about six then.
Then another time I liked was when I went to France using student loans and I woke up in a cold ass room by an annoying ass kid who would steal all my euro-change before yelling at me to wake up and then I took a cold ass shower and dried off with stiff ass cold towels and go downstairs and take a shit and go out to the kitchen and drink thick coffee that my cold ass host mother would make for me with cream and eat fresh bread and cold butter and then I’d leave and eat a clementine on the walk to school in the cold cold ass wind and at night I would hold my future wife’s hand and not drink anything because I still believed in God.
Another time was when I was shit wasted every night at the restaurant in DC listening to The National until 2 AM and buying yellow American Spirits with my boss’s money and staring at the wall and finishing bottles of Catoctin Creek whiskey and forgetting what day it was and walking home with one shoe and stopping for early breakfast in Adams Morgan and back to work at the coffee shop at six in the morning with my good friend and listening to George Thorogood and every day monotonous madness and no one could stop it because I didn’t believe in God any more.
I am on the train to work now. Life is going past like a black dye through my veins. Work home tv sleep take a shit and do it again.
It’s cool to see how much the daily post has increased my visitors. I had another fourteen people come by just yesterday. I guess just having your blog be one of a hundred choices on a page that gets heavy traffic is worlds away from hoping to get picked up on google search or random chance.
Yeah so go ahead and do that shit if you want an extra ten visitors a day.
There. Now I can tell people I have a blog about social media.
Do I believe that good things come to those who wait? I think that things come to everyone and if you are waiting around for something then you’ll just ignore all the other stuff until you get what you’re waiting on and then you’ll say oh that was because I was waiting for it. Besides it probably won’t be what you originally wanted, but you’ll tell yourself that it is or even that it’s better than what you wanted and that will be basically just a result of you being tired of waiting and finally realizing that you didn’t even need that thing to begin with.
I think you should have no expectations of getting anything. I think it’s a very sane way to live. That way if you wake up in the morning you’re surprised as shit and if you wake up dead you’re similarly surprised and you’ll never have to go to the dentist because you won’t expect them to be in business past the next minute or so.
That’s just me though. Not everyone can be so rational. Some people sit around waiting for things or going out and getting things. Hell I don’t even know who originally said this or why they were thinking it. You know they probably said it to some kid so he’d stop pestering them. That kid eventually figured it out, too. Probably was a hundred and five and said, fuck, well, I guess I better rationalize my life by saying that after all it was pretty good times waiting around for whatever it was that I wanted back then.
Some people say “don’t edit yourself while you write. You lose all the creativity blah blah whatever the fuck some people say.” But when I do that shit this is what I end up with. Some scattered witty remarks and a bunch of curse words. But when I go slow and try to think about what I write, I write shit like that one post a while ago about walking in Central Park. I thought that was pretty good.
So today I tried to post a response to the Daily Prompt really fast, so I could be in the top of the list so people would come look at this shit. I don’t know what happened because I did the same thing I did yesterday except I posted from my phone, so I guess something went wrong with the ping back because I guess the shit was in html or something. Sucks because somehow I woke up just as that daily prompt got posted. So there were only three responses by the time I tried to respond to that shit. But then my shit never got posted and no one looked at this mother fucker at all. Somehow I got like five follows though. I can’t figure this shit out.
Daily Post: Present-day you meets 10-years-ago you for coffee. Share with your younger self the most challenging thing, the most rewarding thing, and the most fun thing they have to look forward to.
Hey man. You’re ten. What the hell do you know about anything? Just stay that way. Ten year olds don’t need to think about this kind of bs. Don’t know what bs is? What the hell are we doing in a coffee shop then?
Who’s paying for this? I ain’t buying you a coffee, you ain’t got no money thanks to the fact your mom made you buy back all the clothes you left in the floor last week with that pile of quarters you saved by cleaning the bathroom every week. And I ain’t got no money because I spent it all when I was eighteen on eating at Ruby Tuesday’s and a big red car with a stupid oversized muffler. And besides you don’t even drink coffee.
Damn sure your parents don’t want you to be here anyway. Most challenging thing you’re going to do before you turn thirty is not kill yourself for life insurance money. You know what’s rewarding about that? That’s about right, not a goddamn thing. Certainly not going to coffee shops and meeting with little bastards like you.
Most fun thing you have to look forward to is all the times you’ll remember being six, that was fun right? Yeah well don’t tell me about it because by the time you’re my age you’ll remember it as the glory days and there’s no point in you reminding me that it was just as much a kick in the dick as the rest of existence.
What was the best gift I ever got made by hand? One time my sister gave me this box of stuff that would make me look like Martha Stewart, including a name tag that said Martha Stewart on it. At the time, I think it was 1998, I was making a lot of Martha Stewart jokes. I don’t remember any of them now.
I get a lot of gifts by hand because everyone I know is broke. I’m about to make everyone on my list a gift by hand. I’m about to start but I probably won’t…so I’m just avoiding everyone for Christmas this year. Like last year. Screw consumerism anyway. Maybe that’s what I’ll do. I’ll make them feel guilty for propping up an artificial capitalist regime by buying me gifts from Crate and Barrel. That’ll do it.