WTFIWWM = What The Fuck Is Wrong With Me. Meh, too long, too ugly. You will not be seeing that sad looking thing again.

WTFWM? Letting the Is and the With be implied, as is allowed in acronyms?

Shorter, but still ugly and not exactly catchy or memorable. Let alone pronounceable.

Anyhow, time for more brooding on what a strange alien robot child I was.

And yet, at the same time, very sweet and charismatic and the rest.

It makes me wonder if showbiz is my destiny, or should be, or could have been. Because as a larger than life showbiz personality, it doesn’t matter if you have trouble forming connections with people on a personal level.

All that matters is that you can get up on that stage or in front of that camera and shine like a supernova. Radiate that star power that makes people smile and feel good,. be charming and funny and lovable. and leave the personal issues in the dressing room.

It is even possible that it’s the people with interpersonal issues like me who end up redirecting all that energy into their broader appeal and BECOME those performers who jump off the screen and into your lap, metaphorically speaking.

I have a lot of theories about artistic talent being a side effect of not being able to express yourself a “normal” way.

Hence odd folk like me who prefer audiences to people. On stage, I know who I am, what is expected of me, what I need to do, and I am confident in my ability to connect with the audience and get a happy groove going with them,

To that end, I have no end result or fixed destination in mind. I am going for a feeling and all my jokes and whatnot are just aids in getting me to that feeling.

A feeling of mutual happiness. My happiness makes them happy. I feed off that happiness and shine it back to them. They feel my glow and get even happier, which makes me happier, and if all goes right, soon we’re quite high on each other.

That was my dream during my all too brief foray into standup comedy. I just wanted to get up there and connect with people. Vibe with people. Make them laugh and feel good and maybe make their world a little bit happier in the process.

We all have to do our part to push back the darkness and make this world a shinier, brighter, warmer, and more wonderful place.

This world can be a beautiful place if we want it to be.

If we dare to dream it so.

If we are radical enough to have hope.

Maybe I should try to get back into standup. It’s not like it stop existing when Covid hit and our fave pub shut down.

I could even do it online, and avoid mobility and motivation issue..

No live audience, though. I would have to imagine one.

Still, it could work. I could create some sort of show for myself. Just me and my webcam and my winning personality.

Maybe have my own little satirical news show. Wouldn’t be too hard to pluck news clips from this here intarweb and add my own snarky comments.

Could even work in some of my skits if I reworked them as news bits.

I will think it over.

More after the break.

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The what pad?

Been checking out Wattpad.

It sure has changed a lot. Back in the day, it was a scratch pad type websitewhich people used to share large chunks of cut and paste text.

Hence, it became the transmission vector for all the “copypasta” memes that got passed around – various chucks of vital text that got passed around. Today. the term is mostly associated with a certain style of horror story – the creepypasta.

I love how internet slang builds upon itself.

But apparently, since then, it has grown into a high successful – and commercialized, ick – way for writers to share their work with a broad audience and maybe get noticed.

Seems to also include a way to monetize your work directly. Again, ick, but it’s not like I would turn it down.

All this talent has to be worth money somehow, right? RIGHT?

At the very least, I could throw some of my existing stories and whatnot up there, sans editing, and see if it gets any nibbles.

Why sans editing, you ask? Wouldn’t it make more sense to keep writing and rewriting every single word until I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, it’s as good as it can be?

I guess so. But I can’t do that. It is simply not in the cards for me. Not only does anything I write become as gross as used Kleenex to me the moment I finish it, but even if I can get over that, editing myself makes me incredibly depressed and odds are I will lose all faith in it and throw it away instead of perfecting it.

It’s not how I want to be, but it’s still who I am.

Besides, I’ve been turning in first drafts for my entire life without suffering any consequences. And not to brag or nothing, but my first drafts are better than most people’s final cuts, so it’s not the end of the world if I am a little sloppy.

I hope to one day be able to tolerate deep editing my own stuff, but for now I will have to settle for sloppy genius over precise mediocrity.

It’s my cross to bear.

At the very least, once I toss some of my stories onto the Watt, I might be able to use that as a basis to network with other writers and maybe make progress that way.

But knowing me, nothing will actually come of it. I will drive up to the entrance of the real world, look in from the outside for a while, think about how nice it must be in there, and then drive off with an enormous sense of relief.

Because I am still fucking terrified of really being out there, in reality, exposed, where danger can come from any direction at any time and in any form and there is no way I can control anything enough in order to keep myself safe.

I need a bridge.

I need a talisman.

I need someone to hold my hand.

And right now, I have none of those things.

But one of these days, I will heal. I will prosper. I will thrive.

And maybe then, I can grow the hell up.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.