I probably could’ve been far more successful doing nothing these past five years. The whole “attract don’t chase” thing. I love to chase. I love to think of myself as dim-witted gremlin living on the side of the road. Passerby’s avoid me. I hiss and scowl at their disgust. We don’t get along. This is where I feel at home.
A gremlin has todo some pretty sick things to survive.
I didn’t think anyone would trust me if I didn’t have a group of girls attached to my waste. I’d put on the spot improv shows, dance on top of tables, play pranks on boys just to make the nearest girl to me laugh, so she might be my friends, invite me out again. Now I know, girls don’t have high standards such as ‘you need to be a vetted comedian circus performer to be my friend’, they’ll just be your friend if you do nothing. Do nothing.
I didn’t think I was worthy of driving a car if I couldn’t offset my carbon footprint. My existence would be pointless. So I tried to invent a new method of transportation that would double as a unique dance prop/burning man outfit. When that failed I tried to invent a app to decentralize design do I could use it to build my mechanical wings. No one cares if I’m a CEO or a yoga teacher – its all the same scripted reaction. Really, I could’ve just done nothing.
I was dating this artist guy with some crazy attention to detail taste. I wanted to be good enough for that sort of taste. I painted a new painting every night, learned new genres, got in to concept art in my everyday life. Nothing was divided from my freedom of expression. I would walk up and down skid row at 3am scantily make some sort of statement. I’d steel methheads bike so they chase me across town. I made myself a martyr at my work and deconstructed ever “motivational poster” to something demotivational. I remember I waved hi at him before he gave a lecture at work one day and he proceeded to completely botch the whole thing out of nervousness – I could’ve done nothing – nothing is better.
The list goes on
I’m not sure what I’ve gained from tricking myself into acting as the underdog gremlin my adult life. It’s not something I really want to write about. It’s not like the skills I forced myself to acquire help me in things I actually want to do (maybe a little). It makes me laugh though, I must me conceited in the way I think I’m have the funniest life out of anyone I’ve ever met.
Anthropological Magical Realism 