frustration

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I don’t know what it is about today, but focus is not my friend. Everything seems off, except the music this morning. Like I’m out of phase with reality.

Fogged up.

I hate this feeling, because it brings out that angry, sad, spoiled brat that couldn’t hack it and hates everything about life, and thinks the universe is out to get him.

Depression can be a real bitch, and it doesn’t always show itself in tears or an unwillingness to get out of bed.

Mine’s often seething anger, obsessive distraction or simply laying on the floor unable or unwilling to move.

I like that part.

It’s relaxing, even if it is just an accumulation of anxious memories from the past.

Oh, and cool. Just noticed. Hives.

The good news is I’m a pacifist and know everything returns to the Tao.

The bad news is the frustration of life’s constant little fuck-yous never seems to truly go away.

Spend too much time looking at your past and it seeps into you. It becomes you.

I think I need to sever.

Target: 200 words
Written: 264 words, short story: Get Back Again

Read: Start With Why, Simon Sinek
Comics: The Legacy Of Luther Strode 1-4
Music: Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, Wilco

christmas parties after the fact

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Last night, it was time for my yearly dose of post traumatic stress. My wife and daughter still work at the place that nearly put me under, and so, once a year, we trudge out to their Christmas party, always held after Christmas, because the owners are cheap.

Every year, it is the same; there’s a sense of tension, a fear of being pulled back in, a desire to get the fuck away. It’s so synchronous with the short story I’m working on (based on a Tragically Hip song called Get Back Again), about being unable to get past the past, and unable to let things go, that I couldn’t help but laugh (and consider weeping).

I can’t wait until they are retired or have new jobs, so I never have to think about that fucking place again.

I never want to get back anywhere near it.

Target: 200 words
Written: 300 words, short story: Get Back Again

Read: The Power Of Less, Leo Babauta
Comics: The Legend Of Luther Strode 3-6
Music: Y34RZ3R0R3M1X3D, Nine Inch Nails (why must every remix album include one mix that is just complete garbage, but for some reason, goes on for 12-14 minutes?  Does the creator just start with a beat and sit staring at his setup, completely unable to decide what to do next, before going fuck it and turning in a quarter of an hour's worth of pure shit?)

ideas

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The news has been so dominated by the left/right divide for so long (at least since Clinton/Starr, but it became hyperactive and all-consuming with Trump) that it’s hard to separate any art from it.

Want to write a cutesy murder mystery? It almost feels dishonest if you don’t make the villain a right wing nut.

Cozy romance? Too innocent for a world bordering on implosion.

Sci-fi? You better make those future times corrupt as fuck.

Fantasy? Well, everyone’s awful and the only good people are those that actually care about others (and they inevitably get killed, don’t they, George R.R. Martin? Finish the series, man!)

Even a short story about a ghost stalking a woman feels like the ghost should be about a January 6 insurrectionist.

Which is where I am now. Great. Fuck you, Trump. Not everything needs to be fraught with social collapse.

Target: 200 words
Written: 358 words, short story: Get Back Again

Read: The Power Of Less, Leo Babauta
Comics: The Strange Talent Of Luther Strode 5-6, The Legend Of Luther Strode 1-2
Music: A Quick One Box Set, The Who (yeah.  Not a gem.  A couple of okay songs, but yeah.  Not their finest.  Barely listenable.)

pas(t)sed

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I don’t like to think about the past. The past has some fun memories, but mostly those only come up with friends (which rarely happens anymore) and usually revolves around someone (as often me as anyone) doing something very stupid.

I admit to missing those days; when memories of fun, dumb things weren’t things to recall, but things actively happening.

I also remember doing things without thought; most of those memories are rife with shame.

Indeed, a look back on the life I’ve had is to see one filled with waste and regret, myopic, self-deceptive and toxic behaviour, stupid decision after stupid decision justified by the flimsiest of ego-driven excuses.

Some would tell me to focus on the positives of the past – the friends, the adventures, the good times. It’s not terrible advice, but I’ve always been poor at connecting and when I was young, I was so delusional with insecurity (and hiding insecurity) that almost everything I did was fraught.

Some would tell me to forget it; I’ve learned from it. Time to move on with new lessons.

This has more value; what’s done is done. The only thing left is to learn.

Still, the sheer embarrassment of it all, the shame of my own stupidity…

These aren’t the things we laugh about. They’re the things we want to leave in the dust, but remain tied to us like anchors in the ground.

Target: 200 words
Written, 666 words, short story: Get Back Again

Read: 5 Steps To Controlling High Blood Pressure, Mayo Clinic
Comics: The Strange Talent Of Luther Strode 1-4
Music: Question The Answers, Mighty Mighty Bosstones (that's fucking soulmusic right there - spaceless intended)

romance #1

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Everyone has a first. This is my first. Goofy, absurdist comedy with little point or depth, only there is a 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: Queen Forever (Deluxe Edition), Queen

one man’s war

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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 stuff).

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??)

disappointment

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Life’s full of them.

See what I did there?

Target: 200 words
Written: 2190 words, comic: Romance #1

Read: Get It Done When You're Depressed, Julie Fast
Comics: Mind The Gap 9-12
Music: Quadrophenia (Soundtrack), The Who ("is it me, for a moment?")

for a moment…

for a moment…

for a moment…

absurdity

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I love the absurd. More specifically, I love absurd that knows it’s absurd and leans into it. I don’t like weird for weird; people being weird but taking themselves seriously over it.

But absurd and knowing it? Not caring and laughing along? Leaning into it?

It’s why movies like Evil Dead 2 and Army Of Darkness were so brilliant. It’s why once Legends Of Tomorrow realized how ridiculous they were, the show got infinitely better, contributing one of the single best season finales I’ve seen on any show ever. Beebo, anyone?

It’s why Airplane, The Naked Gun and Major League were instant classics. It’s why Monty Python works. It’s the basis for Seinfeld and Community.

To embrace the absurd is to embrace ourselves, our foibles, our fuck-ups, our downright stupidity. It’s to understand the utter ridiculousness of the human mind and human condition and find a way to laugh along with it. Humanity is exposed by comedy; our self-importance is flayed by absurdity.

There is no one more at peace than the one who is not only perfectly comfortable being absurd, but perfectly aware of how absurd they are.

Target: 200 words
Written: 389 words, comic: Romance #1

Read: Get It Done When You're Depressed, Julie Fast
Comics: Mind The Gap 5-8
Music: Quadrophenia, Discs 1 and 2, The Who

romance is nice though, right?

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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?

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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)