romance #1

Everyone has a first. This is my first. Goofy, absurdist comedy with little point or depth, only there is point, there is depth, only no point, but interpretation of a point and Jesus, I’ve been listening to too much Night Vale.

All hail.

Target: 200 words
Written: 792 words, comic: Romance #1

Read: 5 Steps To Controlling High Blood Pressure, Mayo Clinic (not be confused with the Mustard Wellness Centre)
Comics: Mind The Gap 17 (damn it, McCann, give us the rest of the story! I'm hooked. I have questions! Questions that demand answers, damn it! Once more with feeling!)
Music: Question The Answers, Mighty Mighty Bosstones (that's fucking soulmusic right there - spaceless intended)

one man’s war

Is another person’s bowl of Corn Flakes he doesn’t even realize he’s eating.

I started writing Romance as a one-shot goof-off. Now, I realize it’s a one-shot goof-off as metaphor for how doing something in one person’s life can feel like fighting World War 3, while in another’s, it’s something they do by rote and forget they even did seconds later.

One man’s Everest is another man’s small puddle.

Probably why so many “nice” guys feel so entitled; the mental and emotional struggle, the days of build-up, the pining, the obsessing, the fantasies, the creation of a mythos around a particular girl that has no bearing in reality to who she is, what she’s done or what her motivations are… when it doesn’t work out, it’s devastating.

From the other side, the woman might be aware of the guy’s infatuation, she might not be. It might be an irritation to her or something that goes completely unnoticed because, you know, she has her own life and it’s not up to her to play the role of trophy for some dude. Unless she’s specifically using him for free shit or whatever, there’s no blame on the person for this (and I’ve known women like that – one in particular who knew damn well who had the hots for her and turned it to her advantage for all kinds of free shit).

Ultimately, it’s up to the dude to reconcile fantasy and reality; to control his mind so that he doesn’t put so much stock in something that likely isn’t attainable, or at the very least, won’t be what he thought it was. The onus isn’t on the woman. Even the user, taking advantage as she was – it was the boys that had the power, really.

They just had to decide she wasn’t such a big deal, that there were other opportunities, other women, ones more likely to be interested and to be compatible. You know, someone that actually wants to be with you and treats you well, and who you want to be with and treat well in return.

They exist.

They’re just not that one.

Target: 200 words
Written: 3756 words, comic: Romance #1

Read: 5 Steps To Controlling High Blood Pressure, Mayo Clinic
Comics: Mind The Gap 13-16
Music: Quake, Nine Inch Nails (why??)

romance is nice though, right?

And funny? I’m not sure romance can exist without laughter. If your romance doesn’t involve a lot of giggling and/or full out hysterics at times, well, it’s too serious.

Life’s too short to be serious. Love is fun and playful, as well as committed and supportive, protective and helpful. All in, as they say.

Laughter is often about ourselves; it’s about growth, about forgiveness, about letting go of worry and enjoying the absurd. Life’s a torrent of insanity, to have someone to laugh through it with (and cry with, as necessary), that’s a blessing.

Target: 100 words
Written: 250 words, comic: Romance #1

Read: Get It Done When You're Depressed, Julie Fast (because, duh)
Comics: Mind The Gap 1-4
Music: Zooropa, U2

rejection what?

It’s funny. I started writing a one-shot goofball comic about a guy trying to ask a girl out (romance!) and having to jump absurd hurdles to do so, and somehow, it’s not about romance.

It’s about rejection.

It’s also about hope.

It’s also about the crushing of hope, and how, after enough, sometimes, it’s best to give up.

Fuck it, right?

There’s no point in chasing the unattainable, especially when the unattainable isn’t even aware of your existence. What’s World War II to one can be unnoticeable to another, a leaf skittering past on a busy street.

Such is the nature of the universe. We think ourselves and our stories as all-consumingly important, but the entire existence of our species is a boson lost among countless others in the grander scheme of a universe filled with red giants and black holes.

Our importance is vastly overrated, to all but ourselves.

We jump through the hoops because of self-importance; we let go when it doesn’t work out only if we recognize it really doesn’t matter, and life’s too short to obsess.

Am I right?

Or do we cling on until all hope is lost? Obsession feeds on itself, doesn’t it?

Target: 100 words
Written: 185 words, comic: Romance #1

Book: Choose Yourself, James Altucher (ugh, the worst example of self-help - too busy being self-promotional and espousing financial success as the only measuring stick while pretending to spirituality - all is love, but fuck everyone, get yours!  It's clear he's full of shit through and through.  Never trust anyone who repeatedly tells how great they are, but only provides concrete examples of the opposite).
Comic: Pretty Deadly: The Rat 3-5 (and one of the big reasons I'm thinking about obsession today, thanks KSD).
Music: Zig's on 2004-07-01, State Radio (bootleg!  Sorry, guys, get back together and I'll come see a concert - you're vastly underrated)

working for disappointment

Rejection is a thing. I’m a wannabe writer and I’m not Brad Pitt or Wayne Gretzky, so naturally, rejection comes with the territory. Nobody’s beating down my doors because I’m so good at what I do or because I have a terrific eight-pack or symmetrical face.

Interlude: I’m married to a wonderful woman, so don’t take that as looking. It just means pre-wife, things weren’t so super easy. I did okay sometimes, but yeah. Nice guys finish last for good reason (and I have a lot to say about the mistaken belief that somehow the “nice guy” is getting screwed by the “asshole” – it’s a largely false narrative propagated by John Hughes that ultimately drives a level of delusion and entitlement in normal men that is absolutely toxic. Thanks, John Hughes, for inspiring incels).

Ultimately, it has nothing to do with nice or asshole, anyway. Lots of “nice” guys are actually dicks, and the “asshole” may actually be a great guy. The asshole may also be an asshole, and the nice guy may be a nice guy as well, just super insecure or shy. Like I said, false narrative.

Anyway, #rantoff. Back to writing.

Target: 100 words
Written: 182 words, comic: Romance #1

Read: Choose Yourself, James Altucher
Comics: Pretty Deadly 9-10, Pretty Deadly: The Rat 1-2
Music: Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Zephyr Song (like, 3 different single versions. I have a problem.)