Writing

On Collecting Hobbies and the Profession of Loafing

I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching lately. You know, laying on my couch, listening to David Bowie and trying to evade reality. I haven’t actually written anything in a long time, since I’ve been so busy with all that soul searching. Let me just get to the point.

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I can’t make up my mind about anything. For the first time in my life, I have seen my own potential and been given opportunities that could make my life better. I respond to this by hiding away in my apartment and eating cookies. Why is life so hard? I think it’s the commitment that’s so frightening. The commitment to being competent, timely, studious, consistent. You (dear readers) have seen this erratic behavior on my blog; that’s me. I am only consistent at being inconsistent.

 It comes down to this: I am a professional loafer. And I’m damn good at it. I have plenty of hobbies, I’m never in bed before 3:00 AM, and I am almost completely unmotivated by money. I don’t enjoy being poor, but the prospect of agreeing to do a job for pay is terrifying. Is this nuts? I mean, have I completely lost it? I always knew this day would come, but I just didn’t think it would be so soon. *Shakes head in shame and sadness.*

I’ve come to realize this: am the real life Penelope Stamp (See The Brothers Bloom), except poor. In the movie, Penelope Stamp is an isolated woman that collects hobbies. Doesn’t that sound like fun? 

On a side note,

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Who needs a plate when you have a pan? This is tuna helper, peas added for flavor. Basically a cry for help.

Ciao.

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Poetry, Writing

The Familiarity of an Acquaintance

You must always be sure to use
Colorful affection with
Ribbon-wrapped words and

Throw a smile over your shoulder;
See how far it will go,
Since a child always loves
A sticker with a smiley-face.

Articulate with an emphasis
That will demand the consideration
Of ears that surround you,

And remember that gilding your expression
Is infinitely better than telling the truth,

Because honesty can make
For a sour taste on the tongue of
the listener’s thoughts,
Which will not benefit your delicate grace.

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