Oh, brain… thank you so much for waking me up at 3 a.m. and not letting me get back to sleep, I love that for us. I love lying around and thinking about what a troubled individual I am, and all of the missteps I’ve made over the last 30 or so years.
At least the bodega was open. At least I got them to admit that they sell loose smokes illegally for 75 cents, it must mean they finally trust that I’m not an undercover ATF agent, it only took a month of me showing up every day. I feel like I’ve gained some street credibility here in my little neighborhood. I needed a few smokes, and I only had 2 dollars left, so it wasn't like I was going to be buying a pack.
anyway, back to what a troubled individual I am, we’re having a pity party.
I think I’m the most fucked up person I know. I'll tell you why: because I know myself better than anyone else that I encounter regularly and I spend more time with myself than anyone else I hang out with or talk to. It can’t be true that I’m the sickest fuck in my social circles, though.
back in the early days of this blog, I wrote a piece that hypothesized that “everyone is fucked up”. Why do I not remember that belief when I go internally casting myself as the most damaged goods on the market?
One of my most dedicated readers said something to the effect of “You aren’t the most fucked up person, you’re just the one who writes about it, publically”.
Maybe she was right.
For some weird exhibitionist reason, I’m granted strength through vulnerability, I can't put my finger on it. It’s like I wish someone had written the kind of things that I write about life so that I wouldn’t have felt alone with them. I’m sure people did, I was just too busy with other forms of media (Zelda 64, for instance) to be an avid reader, and my attention span is rubbish.
In this LinkedIn/ Instagram world of manufactured perfection, it might be refreshing to come across genuine honesty, perhaps. By sharing my struggles openly, I hope that I can give others the courage to do the same. I want to create a space where people can connect, be heard, and understood. And in that space, we can break down the barriers that divide us and instead build connections.
Someone who knows me, as well as anyone who has ever known me told me that I will not abide any fake bullshit. He was right, I take it as a personal insult to my intelligence when someone feeds me some kind of line that isn’t the truth. If I could only grin and bear the chore of small talk and societal farce, I’d certainly be more professionally successful than I am.
But wait, maybe I am just who I need to be, just when I need to be him, at just the right time. Maybe this is all leading to something more meaningful…I hope so.
Life is messy, and so are we. But maybe that’s the beauty of it all. I know I’m corny, you’ll just have to live with it.
HEY NOW!
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