Harvesting Happiness

I’ve been in a bit of a funk lately, so I haven’t writing too much. I haven’t been doing much of anything lately; my job is indefinitely postponed, I’m worried that if I go outside, I’ll kill my whole family, I feel like a real-life Peter Pan, and I don’t know what to do about any of it.

There’s just so much sadness in the world right now, I can see it in the air the rare times that I go outside. People are scared, uncertain of what the future holds, and angry that it’s gotten to this point. I’ve had to fight for those fleeting milliseconds of happiness, but now, after every attempt to make life tolerable, I’ve come to the conclusion that it just isn’t enough. 

So many people I talk to say that happiness is a feeling, something that you can’t control. I think that’s bullshit.  I keep a note in my phone of everything that makes me happy, and every time I feel empty and numb, I look at that list and try to imagine the things that make me happy. It’s not a complex list, there are things like “filling your gas tank all the way up” or “finding new music” that don’t take much to achieve, but still briefly help me feel like a real person for a moment or two, and that’s so important these days. 

I’m the last person you should listen to for advice, but in this one instance, I think I’m on to something. Try it out: list the things that make you happy, and whenever you feel worthless and devoid of feeling, check that list out, it might help, it might not; I don’t know, I’m not a fucking psychologist.  

Fuck Being Famous Pt.2

As I’ve said before: FUCK BEING FAMOUS. It really does sound like the worst thing ever. Look at all these famous people who have ruined their lives trying to maintain their lifestyles. I could never do that, I’m not built for that type of shit, I just want to create and be left alone.

I’m a huge Mac Miller fan, and that might be why I hate the idea of being famous. He was an artist that wasn’t afraid to show who he was, and let his fans into his inner thoughts and feelings. It’s widely-known that Mac hated the attention that being famous put on him, Macadelic was created from the fallout of that legendary 1.0 review from Pitchfork. I’m not that confident, I’m kind of a piece of shit sometimes, so why would I want everyone and their mother to see how I act in private?

Sure, being famous has its perks; I’d love to be able to grab lunch with my favorite artists because of who I am, but it doesn’t seem like a healthy lifestyle. I already deal with the debauchery of having more money than I need, so what good would come from having access to the best comforts and drugs ever created? If I were some rich trust-fund douche-bag, I’d be dead by now, either from an overdose, or by sticking a shotgun in my mouth because I realized how little my life matters in the scheme of things, as well as how little I deserve the things I’d been given. 

My personality type isn’t suited for a life of high visibility: I can maybe deal with people an hour or two, tops, a day. If I had to answer the same basic bitch questions day in and day out, I’d end up on TMZ for beating the brakes off of some lowly journalist, and that’s not a good look. Additionally, I’ve kind of been a bit of a shithead in my life, so if people shared some texts I’ve sent while drunk at the bar, I’m definitely getting canceled.  Calling your friend “Jew Rogan”  because he’s bald, Jewish, and loves the Joe Rogan Podcast probably doesn’t look too good if he isn’t there to confirm that he thought that shit was hilarious. I don’t get the whole “cancel culture” anyway, I think people should own up to the shitty things they do, but to think that these people can’t grow from these issues is super fucking dumb, and is insulting to the hard work it takes for someone to actually better themselves. 

Another reason I would hate to be famous would be the pressure. I’m not a genius, I’m not funny enough to get famous off of my sense of humor, I’m definitely not handsome enough to get away with all the stupid shit I say, so if I were to get famous, it’d probably be from some wild Tweet, or because I’ve finally gotten good enough at writing for someone important to give a shit. Usually, I thrive under pressure, and use it as a catalyst to kick-start my creative juices, but I feel like at a certain level, when your Twitter account is inundated with thousands of requests to create more and more content, I’d feel like I’m obligated to serve my fans, since they were the ones responsible for making me famous. I can’t say for sure, since I’ve obviously never been famous, but at this point in my life, I’d fucking hate it, and that hate would be incredibly obvious in my writing, and since I’m a terrible liar, I don’t think I could hide it. 

A Letter To High School Me

Hey Dipshit,

It’s you, 8 years in the future, and I’ve gotta say: you suck, and I’m glad I’m not you anymore. You had all of the opportunities in the world, but you squandered them because you thought smoking weed before practice made you cool. It didn’t. You had all the time in the world to figure yourself out and decide what you wanted out of life, and what did you do? You got stoned and played Fallout 3 for 600 hours instead of learning how to be a person. You have ruined so many things for us; we could’ve done something worthwhile, but you just HAD to be cool, you just HAD to convince other people that you knew what you were doing, and you don’t.

I want to say that things got better, but I’m pretty sure you know that’s bullshit. You always had to convince people that you were okay, and you aren’t, and literally everyone can see that you’re not okay, so stop joking around all the time to try and hide the fact that your miserable. It only gets worse.

I found our senior yearbook, and just, wow. You really blew something special because you weren’t satisfied with what you had. That girl is waaaaaaaaaaay better off without you, you should’ve noticed that nerdy artsy girl that was always into you, she would be perfect for you, but you’re still too busy being a shallow prick to realize that. Why are you the way that you are? Why do you wear band shirts for bands you don’t listen to? Why do you think that goatee looks good? Why do you think you can get away with not studying or doing any homework? You’ve gotten lucky your whole life, and you haven’t done anything to deserve any of the things you’ve been given.

Now, you’re not all bad. I genuinely think you have a bigger heart than I do. You definitely are better at talking to people than I am, you have a much less jaded view of the world, and you would give the shirt off your back for the people you care about. Enjoy it while it lasts, along with your hairline, your iPod touch, and your faith in humanity. You lose them all in 2 years.

Begrudgingly,

You.

Purgatory

I feel like I’m in purgatory. I’m not advancing in life, I’m in the same place doing the same things with the same people. I feel like there has to be something I need to do, something I missed that will let me leave this place.

I’ve been slowly descending into exile, I don’t like doing things anymore, I spent the whole day just watching TV and existing. I’ve barely eaten, but I’m not even hungry. I don’t sleep too well anyway, so each day just keeps getting longer and longer.

I feel like I’m stuck in the tutorial level in life, and all the work I’ve done won’t translate anywhere else. My parents have gone to Maine for the month, so I can pretend I’m a real adult for awhile. It’s not much, I’d be dumb to think that I’ll have a house like this with the cool gadgets my parents worked their lives to afford, but in the meantime, it’s better than nothing. I wonder what I need to do in order to get my shit together and get out of this place, I’m tired of being here, I don’t know how much longer I can stay in this little town without permanently hindering my progress. I don’t want to be one of those people who looks back on their life and regrets never leaving. It’s hard to keep pushing through when the whole world feels like it’s crashing down on you, the only thing that keeps me going is that faint hope that things will be better someday. I hope I’m right, but I also know that I’m usually not.

I’m Not Okay

I usually feel super awkward talking about my feelings on here, but now I think I’m confident enough to speak my truth: I’m not doing well.

I was always going to be weird: you can’t just make a socially awkward only-child introvert and shelter the fuck out of them, and not get a really fucked up psuedo-adult as a result. The more I learn about the world, the less I want to be a part of it.

I’m going to die. It’s inevitable. The fucked up part is that I know how I’m going to die. I had a dream long ago where I slowly alienated the people who cared about me, until I drank myself to death. I’m terrified that it might be an accurate depiction.

I hope I’m wrong. I hope that I get to enjoy my life, but I don’t think that will be the case. I just want to be happy when I go out.

The Death of an Empire

What the fuck are we doing? Has everyone lost their goddamn mind? What in the hell is wrong with you people? We have people killing eachother over the right to protest, we have a president who should’ve been sent off to pasture years ago, and we have a percentage of the country that just wants to see the world burn.

I want to believe that we’re better than this, I want to believe that we’re still the greatest country on Earth. It’s kind of like being a Browns fan: you see their potential, but they keep fucking it up.

That picture of Minneapolis burning is iconic, it should be someone’s album cover, it speaks to everything that needs to be said right now. I’m not a good mouthpiece for change, I have no idea what I’m doing with my life, so don’t make me delve too deep into the stupid shit I say to give me that momentary serotonin hit that keeps me going.

Are You Fucking Kidding Me?

I don’t like politics, but I feel compelled to talk about the protests and the response by the police.

I’ve definitely gotten out of trouble a few times due to white privilege. I’ve gotten pulled over before, yelled the officer because I’m awkward and don’t handle stress well, and still gotten a verbal warning. If I wasn’t an upper middle-class white person, I’d probably be dead right now.

I don’t like politics, I’m not very informed, but I try to keep up with the deluge of information that flows freely through the Internet. Yes, most of the information we get is probably full of shit, and presented in a way meant to divide us, but is it better to be ignorant, or misinformed?

I know that some people feel differently, that these protests are unnecessary and an excuse to rob businesses and riot, but I disagree. Think of it this way: if you bully someone for years, and prevent them from living a normal life, you don’t get to dictate how they react when they finally stand up to you. Would you apologize for punching someone in the face after they punch you and kick you every day?

I’m torn on whether it’s best to leave this situation alone because of who I am and how I look, but I also think I have a duty to tell people that this is wrong, and we need to change.

I don’t have many suggestions on how we can change, my only halfway decent thought is that police departments need to charge officers for their crimes, and if the public sues them, they should show their full support. Additionally, maybe there could be some system like malpractice insurance that keeps police officers honest and accountable. Maybe that already exists, and I just don’t know about it.

I’ve gotta say: Minneapolis picked the worse possible time to do something shitty. We’re facing a global pandemic that has kept millions scared and unemployed, sports and concerts are canceled, so people have nothing else to keep them entertained, and no job to consider while they protest. It’s literally the dumbest possible time to kill an innocent man on camera.

We’re better than this. I don’t believe in my government, but I believe in the people of my country. We can fix this.

The Time Capsule

Periodically, I like to read my old posts. Partly because I love to read my writing, but partly because my posts are snapshots on time, and sometimes I like to visit them. I’ve written a whole lot of stupid shit, things that will probably embarrass me in the future, but I will never erase them. I’m embarrassed by all the drunken rants about how miserable I am, but not only is it true, it’s necessary.

Sometimes, I feel like writing is an art, and as an artist, I shouldn’t care about what anyone thinks of my art. That’s usually the case, but sometimes I get super anxious sharing intimate details about who I am, and it fucks up my creative space. If you’re an employer, or one of my friends who stumble upon this, I’m respectfully asking you to fuck off. This isn’t meant for you, I don’t write for you, so keep it moving.

I’ve got a shit memory. Maybe it’s from the executive processing issues brought on by ADHD, maybe it’s because I don’t get enough Omega-3, or maybe it’s because of all the (alleged) drug and alcohol use. In any case, my brain’s all fucked up and I’m not good at remembering things, so I write them down to create tangible memories. I’m not really a social person, so this is super out of my comfort zone, but every time I talk about personal issues, I feel a little better talking about them, so if reading about my personal life bothers you; go back to Barstool.com, and go fuck yourself.

The College Experience

I’ve been in college since 2012, so you could say that I’m well-versed in the college experience. It’s all bullshit. I’ve been to 3 different schools, and all three of them were practically the same. The shitty truth is this: college isn’t that hard. I’m a terrible student; I don’t like to study, I don’t do it every day, or even every week, and I get straight A’s. This should scare the shit out of everyone paying $30,000 a year for a piece of paper that I can recreate in Photoshop.  I’m not even that smart, there are tons of people far, far smarter than I am, so how is it that I get better grades than them?

First and foremost, colleges are businesses. If you own a restaurant, you want to ensure that your customers are satisfied when they leave your restaurant so they tell other people about it. College is the same way. If everyone who attended college failed, nobody would go, so I think the administration put pressure on the faculty to ease grading policies to ensure that not only do their students get to brag about their GPA, but also to keep a steady flow of uninformed 18 year-olds with student loans coming through their halls.

I’m not trying to brag, I’m just some uninformed asshole on the Internet spouting my opinions, so do your research before you sign your life away to some loan company that will actively try to take advantage of your financial illiteracy. Student loans can’t be discharged in bankruptcy, as far as I know, so if you aren’t 100% certain that college will help you get to where you want to be, don’t waste your time fucking up your credit score.

If you are dead-set on college, don’t be stupid: go to community college first. It’s not as sexy as spending freshman year blacking out on cheap vodka and Blue Gatorade, but it will pay dividends in the end.  Community college is like an extension of high school, but you’re not pumping hormones 24/7, and you don’t have to spend your days there, so it’s infinitely better, and you save money. Make sure your credits transfer though, nobody wants to go through all that work just to find out that your credits from “Intro to Microbrews” don’t transfer.

If you’re not gonna go to class, don’t go to college. I’ve done my 10,000 hours of partying, I’m a professional, so when I tell you it’s not worth it, IT’S NOT WORTH IT. Yeah, it’s fun, yeah, you’ll think you’re the shit, yeah, doing drugs is fun (allegedly), but is that worth tens of thousands of dollars? No, the fuck it’s not. If you’re going to be that person, do the world a favor and don’t go to college. Just stay in your home town and sell drugs like a normal piece of shit.

Full disclosure: I’m not 1000% certain that I’m right, you’re experience might be different than mine, you might’ve had a completely different experience and think college was the best years of your life. I’m not you, I’m just here to tell my story and hope that somebody gets useful advice from my ramblings.

The Death of a Dream

I think it’s time to be honest with myself: I’m probably not going to be a copywriter any time soon, and that’s okay. I’ve had this goal for years, and I haven’t really made any tangible progress, so I’m starting to think I should shift my focus elsewhere.

It’s hard, accepting that you might never achieve something you’ve worked so hard for, but I think it’s a good lesson in life. You can’t always get what you want. Usually, I find a way to make things work out, but I’m getting older, so I’ve got to start thinking about things differently.

I’m never going to stop writing campaigns. They might not be the best, they might actually be awful, but as long as I enjoy writing them, I don’t see myself stopping completely. It’s turned into more of a hobby, albeit a weird one.

I think this is part of growing up: realizing that your dreams might not be attainable. That doesn’t mean you’re a failure, or you’ve wasted your time, it just means that you’ve put as much effort into your dream as you could, and realized when it was time to switch to something else. Hopefully I find something that I enjoy enough to invest a large chunk of my life in.