Like the Supertramp song.
That’s what I feel like I am doing with all this writing and navel-gazing and therapy. I feel like I have no choice but to attack my depression via the indirect and clumsy route of talking it all out instead of dealing with my problems more directly.
Not that I can easily explain what I mean by that. Sigh.
It’s like in order to be translated into words, my thoughts and emotions have to be very carefully packed up and sent all the way across the country just to then be sent back and unpacked and such, whereas if I were not so alienated from myself, shit could just stay in the same damned room.
Or something like that.
Oh well, at least this way, I leave a written record of my journey, and God knows, that might even help someone else on theirs some day.
And, of course, there’s all the great writing practice I have been getting writing to you lovely, lovely people every day.
I can feel the sheer amount of bulk, flexibility, and power I have added to my writing muscles over the years. Back when I started this thing back in 2011, I was barely a writer at all.
I was just a talented dreamer with good verbal skills.
But now I am a mighty juggernaut (small j) of words. I honestly should be seeking bigger challenges by now. Doing this has become too easy.
Not that I am going to stop any time soon. I need this outlet, at least for now.
But these big writing muscles of mine demand a much better workout. Right now, I get that mostly when I occasionally do a fiction.
And I always feel better after doing a fiction. Like I got a good amount of my excess nervous tension out by giving my mind a real workout.
Maybe I should start writing another crazy experimental fiction novel, like my last NaNoWriMo entry oh so many years ago.
Or try my hand at writing the next big Hollywood blockbuster movie. I mean, I could totally pull that off. It would be jam packed with kickass fight scenes and explosions and cars flipping over AND have a lot heart and a deep and moving emotional plotline AND be top notch science fiction.
Fuck it, why pick and choose when you can have it all? Hire me and get EVERYTHING.
I can’t think of anything “bigger”, in any sense, that I could write. Anything I can think of would just be more of the same. An epic novel cycle. A whole season of an Emmy-worthy ensemble dramedy. A truly breaktaking and groundbreaking porn script.
Oh, if I had unlimited budget and total freedom, I would make an animated erotic epic that would not just cause a billion orgasms overnight, but it would bring genuine sexual healing to the world by returning sex, in all its forms, to its natural state of innocent, pure, enthusiastic lust.
It’d make Rocky Horror look like Mass For Shut-Ins, baby.
But who the heck would fund such a mad experiment in radical liberation? I would have to find some old rich dude who wants to see the cartoon bacchanal I create.
Fair warning, though, folks : there will be a little of EVERYTHING in this flick. The less publicly acceptable stuff will be preceded by a warning, of course. Or better yet, the whole thing will be interactive, so people can choose what they do and do not see beforehand and then everyone is happy.
People will be encouraged to watch as much as they can, though, even if it is something in which they have no interest. The idea is that we all learn to understand and accept all sexuality, after all, even stuff that leaves us cold.
It’s up to the viewer, though. Nobody will be shown anything without their consent.
Consent is the only rule of sex, after all. Everything else is fair game!
More after the break.
Do not hesitate!
This one has been rattling around my head for a long time.
There are pains and defeats and humiliations you will suffer purely because you do things hesitantly and weakly instead of confidently and strongly.
And it’s all because you are, on a deep level, reserving the right to flee or abandon or abort at any second. If you could somehow banish all thoughts of failure or disaster from your mind, things would work out for you like they do for everyone else.
But that’s mighty big “if”.
That’s why you can do things when you’re not thinking about it that you can’t then do when you are. When you aren’t thinking about a task, your automatic system takes over and it is perfectly capable of doing it.
But when conscious thought enters the equation, neurosis steps in and micromanages the task to death and with that kind of interference the task becomes impossible.
So you fumble the simple task, hate yourself, and become even MORE hesitant.
We nerds are particularly prone to this kind of thing because, being intellectuals, we “lead with our head” and try to accomplish all things via brain power.
Which works great in the classroom but not so good on a soccer field.
Because you can’t learn to pass and kick via brainpower. You have to get the conscious, logical mind out of the way so our excellent suite of incredibly sophisticated motor adaptive instincts take over.
Again, easier said than done. It goes against our entire cognitive approach to the world. We use our big brains for everything.
Now you also know why the dumb kids are good at gym. Because they don’t have big cognitive computational apparatuses interference with their motor functions.
I’m not sure it’s possible for us nerds to learn to relax our smarts and just keep trying to do a thing without thinking about how to do it or how we’re doing at it.
Luckily, none of these motor tasks really matter. Nothing you learned (or failed to learn) in gym class has the slightest relevance to your adult life.
You’re more likely to use your algebra.
And if you do find yourself needing to do something that requires complex motor skills, you can always hire a dumb kid to do it.
It’s what they are there for, after all.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.