A post on being yourself – because you’re not allowed to be me!
Sometimes I wonder… How many stupid things will I regret in the future?
Then I came to the cunning idea of writing them down, partly for insurance to claim all along maybe I was a sane person. When the court asks why I blew up my own house with some sort of toothpaste bomb, forgetting the fact that it endangers others I will simply say, look, It’s pretty obvious the support to show my personality is through my blog feed… then I will realize oh SHIT, please don’t.
No matter what, always be yourself
Greyson Chance
What a silly phrase, how can one always know what oneself is. I will argue you can never always be just one ‘person’ due to the limitations of opportunities, and available options to perform under circumstances making life random and exciting.
ABSURDISM is fun and THAT’S a fact.
Even by myself, I find doing what would seem habitual, boring, so I go out of my way to over-extend a task to the point of it being overly complex.
It’s never easy, being me. But I enjoy it. At least I think I do. So much going on all the time, it feels like a circus entering my wish list on Amazon. My brain can flurry soo many exotic expeditions to the point where I even question my reality of why humans have created such demonic creations. Such as:
- Paw socks (Because your own feet aren’t perfect)
- Fake poo (Whats wrong with real poo)
- A vomiting stress ball (No comment)
- Everything with Nicolas cage on but… Lego. WHY NOT LEGO IS IT NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU WORLD
Purely from one scroll on wish. Time of my life I will never get back after seeing these items, just like you and this blog…
The return
Again back to me, hello. Are you being yourself yet?
The things that make me, me, are somewhat questionable. Random might be correct. Although lately, since meeting a ray of new people from being at University, I get described as nervously energetic as if someone has a bomb and it’s triggered by silence.
But the bomb is me.
In this reflection of how bizarre I can be, I find myself to be very distracted by things that aren’t so important to me.
As facts I should be worried about are, MONEY I always need MORE! Work, it solves itself, actual job work, I can pretend that exists.
In terms of survival advice for life, I could probably recommend the usual stay away from dinosaurs and demons as else they’ll both try to eat you in some way. I’m more of an indoor person than outside so I’m quite safe from all that, as there’s just too much going on already inside my room, due to my inability of controlling my outburst of life.
Maybe by being myself, I can help you with being yourself? Does it work that way?
Seeding my madness
Energy: such a silly thing.
Food is the pride and joy of my creation.
If there were no food there would be no me, vice versa. In a world of creation, it amazes me how bad I am at creating a variety of dishes that if I counted probably wouldn’t make it off my hand. Maybe, a future knock-off series of the Bad Batch should be created where it’s me creating a series of terrifically painful dishes. I would simply cry all the time and apologize to everyone involved, especially to those who would consume my conjured Frankensteins’. Anyway, these mighty dishes that keep me afloat, in reality, are the equilibrium of my life.
Again if there is no food, there is no me. Like the Flash, my dietary requirement depletes as-if some tsunami awoken in my rather mini belly. For a being that is rather thin, I most likely consume at least a couple of human’s worth of meals. I know right. Where does it all go? I’ll give you a secret, it’s not the back way.
My brain – of course.
The power cord to my interior pain, the very organ maintaining my dubious awareness of how painful my reality is to others. Thus making me aware of every soul-crushing moment I exclaim an unexplainable answer that depicts me as a viable dump of useless information or awkward appropriation.
I believe even helplines would put down the phone at the moment of me making a sound that would mistakenly come out as a hot wheels car.
Them suddenly replying “sir, are you ok, what was that sound?”
Me, sitting, dying inside all knowing it was either a stutter from thinking too quick mid-speech or a laugh that ominously reminds everyone of Jimmy Car.
Oh, how I love myself. And this is only the beginning. No worries, I have never phoned any helpline and I am ok.
Please enjoy my future randomness and have fun with me on this online accord. I will always be myself – and hopefully, I can help you with being yourself. Bye now.
The next post in Alan’s Thoughts: The Great Journey for Cheese
