reflection of everything

It’s important to FAIL

It’s 6:47 P.M. I started this post at 4 A.M. this morning. For some reason, I felt compelled to improvise something (as I typically do). The theme was Mirrors and reflection, which I decided to keep. It feels good to just write about a topic and run with it. That’s the Joy of Writing-the thought that I can begin a topic and just pour my thoughts out about it. I want it to be interesting for the reader (because I’m the only reader), but also interesting for myself to write.

So I began my writing and just flowed with it. But after a couple of paragraphs in, I was overcome with the slow realization that I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. I didn’t have the slightest clue and it was glaringly obvious. If you choose words carefully, then sometimes this can be humorous and absurd, but this one was proof that I may have an undiagnosed mental disorder.

I didn’t like it because it felt like I was trying too hard and the writing wasn’t organic. Even writing the word organic makes me feel like an asshole. It didn’t feel like it was coming from the heart. Ugh. It didn’t feel like real shit. Okay.

I’m not exactly sure what the criteria is for this feeling either, I can’t explain it very well, because it’s a feeling I get after reading my own work. All of my writing sucks…but if one writing sucks a little less, then I feel good about it. If the words seem to gel, and there’s flow, then I feel good. It’s exactly the reason why I write-to suck a little less and to revise. The Joy of Writing.

Being completely repulsed with myself is my specialty, though. I physically felt bad, and deleted everything except the title and the two pictures. At this point, it doesn’t fucking matter. I could hold down the A key for 4 pages, save it, and not really bother for another lifetime. But it’s the principle of the matter.

Some weeks ago, I made myself a little sticky note that says ‘Commit to what you Create!’ It’s atypical of me to be that enthusiastic, because I’m the most stolid, emotionless, person you might ever see in your life. But there’s like 1% of me that wakes up feeling energized and like I need to find the positive side of things.

After the Deletening, I got up and started pacing around, smoking cigarettes, trying to clear my mind. The air was tense. It was like I had just bombed a small indigent country from the comfort of my own living room and was now mentally unraveling.

I may be a casual. Everything I write will probably be courtroom evidence one day. I can see it already. I write for therapy and amusement, but sometimes hear a heavy barred steel prison door slowly ratcheting shut as I write. If I’m ever published it would be in the DSM-VI so that certified mental health professionals are able to spot the red flags of an unstable person.

To be honest, the feeling after deleting my writing felt good but it’s the same feeling of stepping in heaping pile of dog shit. It’s so easy. The deleting feeling was also like attempting to masturbate and finally giving up after a few minutes. Total vacancy and self-damning.

I guess one could say that my goal was to write something deep, but my own style of writing kept harpooning the attempt like a sociopathic sea-fairing captain Ahab. It’s a long embarrassing public shower in my own shit. Or farting loudly in class during a test.

I am my own worst enemy. I’ll start something with a bright-eyed well-meaning ambition, and then it’s like Satan shows up to the party and everything gets all fucked up. I’m 90% sure this has to do with the fact I don’t know what the hell the point of all this is.

But there also is a chance that someone, somewhere, may eventually read this and for a minute and feel better about themselves and the disappointment of feeling like a failure. My advice is this…if your going to fail, then fail with some fucking effort next time and don’t pussyfoot around it. Rub it in people’s faces.

Maybe somebody is out there making you feel bad in your life or maybe you’re the asshole making somebody feel bad about their life. Just know that the writer of this blog, out in the internet playland world, doesn’t care. It’s not ever going to get better until we fail with some confidence. There’s no I in team, but there’s a big I (and U) in failure, so make me proud.

When I want to be amused by other people failing, I watch compilations of guys getting their balls smashed. It’s hilarious. I also watch this Jeri Ellsworth video. Her honesty and passion for what she does is pretty awesome. Also, there’s a funny story in there about how she got attacked by a rooster.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, 1944

Published by InnominateHominid

I am a resident of Alaska. I hope this explains everything.

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