Freedom

Freedom 🧘‍♀️

 

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I was gonna write a post on life crises and the traditionally non-western initiation processes that prevent these from happening…buttt…that will be another tomorrow because I’ve been inspired to talk about…FREEDOM!

 

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What is freedom? Is it an abstract concept or a tangible “thing” that can be felt, understood, and compared to other “things?” Everyone seems to want a taste of it, America is supposedly built on it, but is it really what everyone thinks it is? I don’t yet fully know what freedom is, but I hope to by the end of this post–so, YEAH: I’m wingin’ it.

 

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When I used to think of freedom, I imagined open space, fresh air, a release from something, distance from restriction and constriction. I thought of “whew,” deep, gulping breaths, and a wave of relief exclaiming, “I’m no longer THERE.” Freedom in my past meant freedom “from” something or someone.

 

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It’s different now. The interesting thing is, although the energy of the word implies that freedom means endless opportunities and no rules, to me, now, it is almost the opposite. In an earlier insanely long Facebook post, I talked about how there is no joy without sadness, dark without light, existence without the space of nonexistence, etc; similarly, there can be no freedom without BOUNDARIES.

 

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Freedom Discovery Roadmap

 

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Step one. When do I yearn for freedom? I yearn for freedom when I feel restricted.

 

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Step two. What do I feel restricted by? Things that I never wanted, be it a roommate situation, undesirable career, romantic partner, toxic friendship, and especially my own cyclical nonsense (dumb patterns I fall into).

 

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Step three. How do I free myself from those restrictions? I first shimmy out of all the layers of slimy false beliefs to reveal what behaviors attracted those situations–then I see what is beneath. Katie, what IS beneath? Desire. It’s desire.

 

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Step four. Ok, ok, ok. So somehow we got from “freedom” to “desire.” This sounds irrelevant. SH. Just wait.

 

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Step five. So now how do I find out what I desire? And how does it set me freeeeee? This is when the magic begins. I find out what I desire by finding out what makes my heart sing.

 

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Step six. And here’s where it all comes together. When you find out what makes your heart sing, you want to do everything you can to protect it– to keep it SAFE…to keep it singing, and allow it to expand. So then you create BOUNDARIES around it to do exactly that. And from that point on, you don’t let anyone or anything in that does anything other than make your heart sing.

 

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And that is when you are free.

 

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Because boundaries are the rock that holds the kite string down so it can fly but not away. What the kite desires is to soar, but not so far that it cannot remember where it came from. Freedom is exploration (kite in the wind) with the weight that comes from an established sense of self (the rock). It is from this place of knowing that safety (the kite’s secured string) is established. And it is from this place of safety that we can open our eyes to what is in front of us. If I am having to look back to see if the string is attached, I am not free.

 

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If I do not know where my desire is rooted, I am not free. If I do not feel the weight of my own soul in the sand, I am not free. If I am not open to the unknown of where the wind blows, I am not free. If I am firmly committed to making my heart sing and only sing, I am finally free.

 

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And as a final remark, I tell you what freedom is NOT. It is NOT an exploration without safety–this is simply restlessness (I would know). It is NOT mindless wandering, aimless meandering, desperate searching. Though a world-traveler may seem free to many, if he/she travels without an established sense of self (and desire), he will fly away–he will have managed to trap himself within the most open space available to us: the universe.

 

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Freedom is felt from limits set. A kitten in a large house–terror. A kitten in a cardboard box–glee. Security. An established home. Self. Sanity. Peace. Freedom.

Brit Marling…and me…on The Feminine (in tv).

WHOA: I did NOT know I would be writing another BIGASS KATIE POST again so soon, but it just HAPPENED…so here it is.

 

(Did Brit Marling ask me to write an entire article-length piece in response to hers? No. Does she care that I did anyways? She just sent me cupcakes, so you bet your ass she did (this is a joke–I am not purporting that the filmmaker named Brit Marling sent Katie Lee anything. Please do not arrest me. I am not really her stalker. Not…really…))

 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––Aaaaand, here we go:

 

As the Internets know, Brit Marling is one of my absolute heroes. And in this article, she again shows me why:

 

“It would be hard to deny that there is nutrition to be drawn from any narrative that gives women agency and voice in a world where they are most often without both. But the more I acted the Strong Female Lead, the more I became aware of the narrow specificity of the characters’ strengths — physical prowess, linear ambition, focused rationality. Masculine modalities of power.”

 

🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐

 

The “irony” is that the strength of femininity has nothing to do with what society defines as such. So by giving women in leading roles “power” in the form of strong physical abilities, literal steel costumes, stunted emotion, and sharp edges in every literal and metaphorical sense, these roles are not really giving women their own feminine power at all.

 

The strength in femininity more closely resembles creamy, sensual, sweet, nourishing chocolate freakin’ pudding than a sharp, metal robo-girl demolishing men. It’s pudding that so gently fills in the cracks of a dried out cake and gets to see and feel through its layers. WAS THAT TOO GRAPHIC??? Plus pudding goes down better. Yum. And so these are the powers a truly “strong” leading lady should get, according to Brit…and me.

 

Deep dive into my personal experiences surrounding this matter:

 

I spent a fair share of my existence forcing masculine ways of being on my very delicate and lightly-energied (accept this as a phrase) self. I formed a shield of steel around me–no listening, pausing, flowing allowed. I operated like this from birth and was unaware of an alternative. The “other” side was simply weakness. And while I can now see and feel the insanely strong energy moving around inside and around me, it was never meant to be used in this forceful, “doing,” steely way.

 

I am light like stardust–a force of energy seemingly directionless and difficult to comprehend. But what I can comprehend about my stardust energy is that it in fact does have direction, just not one that we can see, and not a linear one that moves forward predictably and with force. Instead, it moves gently, slowly, often randomly or circuitously, and with lots and lots of SPACE within it. It is free.

 

🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️

 

And as I come to recognize what my energy is and how it was meant to be expressed, I list a list of ways in which I never thought I would feel comfortable expressing it:

 

1. Never did I think I would wear flowing skirts, pink, and 100% feminine outfits, but sometimes now I do. I still have a hard time with this one because it is so “in fashion” to dress in a masculine or even androgynous way right now, and I am in part influenced by that high fashion around me. But it’s definitely evolving (It took me three years to work up the courage to wear a skirt to middle school, and I did it on the very last day feeling like I was practically naked–but those cold, metal seats didn’t help…).

 

2. Never did I think I would want to participate in “women’s circles” where we light fires, read tarot, and screech horrid and beautiful noises together to “get it all out”–but I do.

 

3. Never did I think I would make female friends who were strongly embodied in the feminine archetype, but I am starting to.

 

4. Never did I think I could feel safe being a soft, flowy, child-like presence around a man (versus hard and sarcastic), but I am getting better and better.

 

5. Never did I think I would be posting long, emotion-filled posts like this that weren’t just jokes and sarcasm, but ones that connect me to the experiences of other women such as the venerable Brit Marling.

 

And the list goes on, butthis post is honestly starting to exhaust me 😅😅😅.

 

Kind of an aside but not really:

I’m thinking of renaming my drum, Bert, and changing him to a her. This is a big step. Drumming, for me, has always been such an experience of proving my masculinity and stomping my foot to let people know I exist. I play strongly, and, to be honest, I don’t know any females who don’t, because it has always seemed like women who play “the drums” often do play it to prove a masculinity (at least that’s what I see). So please–show me a female hand drummer or set player who plays in a feminine way because I don’t even know what that looks like. Does it mean she can’t play loudly? Does it mean she…see…I don’t even know what it would mean.

 

So…are we thinking “Alberta” or “Bertie” for the name change? LMK thanx.

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“It’s difficult for us to imagine femininity itself — empathy, vulnerability, listening — as strong.”

 

On The OA, Brit Marling so boldly embodies all of the wonderful feminine characteristics about which she speaks–and that’s why I am so in love. The bravery it takes to express softness, tenderness, sensuality, and pause ON TELEVISION is unfathomable, unless you are Brit Marling, in which case you get right up there and melt into chocolate pudding for all the world to see and feel.

 

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Other thoughts:

 

I make really good fish soup. Would corporate office kitchens be okay with me hanging out there?

 

Would I really want to hang out in a corporate office kitchen?

 

Actually, if it’s just the kitchen I’m hanging out in, that’s fine.

 

 

And did anyone actually read this far? I sure didn’t.

 

 

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/02/07/opinion/sunday/brit-marling-women-movies.html?fbclid=IwAR3PcIwMCOW_dHFPqFUz3ctluIWmmklRX999TCMIE1P_mwr1dik9p-fJIQA

Asking for What You Want

WARNING: Especially big/long Katie post about life and growth and stuff.

 

Yesterday was a day–it was a hard day and a life-changing one. It was the day I was finally made aware of a core mode of operation (at least one of the top ones) that kept me in victimhood and isolation despite appearing to be a strong, independent, free person.

 

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I realized that, my entire life, the same pattern would play: I would have a need, hope someone would fill it without my asking, become upset if that need was not intuited by the person, and finally guilt and blame that person for not providing it. I would create internal dialogues around why no one was there for me, why people didn’t care about me the way I cared about them, and so on.

 

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Imagine what I did not just to myself, but to everyone around me who I guilted and scared away until I truly was alone and without anyone to provide me with a need, even if I did ask.

 

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On top of that, I hoped and prayed to have needs met by friends and family whom did not necessarily even consent to meet them. I put a lot on people without asking if they were okay with any of it first. I have a hard time with this one because I do not know where to line is…what can be “expected” from friends and family? Can we ever hope to have needs intuited? The answer is this: you can, but you still have to ask, and right now that feels hard.

 

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Do you have time for me? Do you have space for me? Do you have energy for me? I somehow feel many people can intuit these things more easily than I, so I am learning manually.

 

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My ultimate “revenge” through this process of silent desire then blame was to guilt others after not receiving what I thought was deserved: I subconsciously wanted to hurt those who did not give me what I want…well…my ego did at least. The ego’s ultimate thought was, “If I (Katie’s identity) die, it will make everyone else feel bad that they didn’t give me what I needed (love in some form). They will regret this choice.” And that’s fucked up–but it’s what ego thought. And I’m taking that power away from it.

 

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So maybe the thing with not only people, but also the universe and me is that I just wasn’t asking…asking for what I wanted in life, relationships, health, whatever. So here and now I’ll finally ask for what I need and want, and maybe that’s all I needed to do all along.

 

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UNIVERSE–HERE’S WHAT I AM ASKING FOR:

 

1. Show me how to ask for things (lol).

 

2. But show me how to ask for things in a meaningful way that does not put pressure on the other party but conveys a proper sense of desire or even urgency.

 

3. Please help me with my communication.

 

4. Fill my heart and mind with so much love that it integrates all the lessons I’ve learned over the past few years and transforms me down to a cellular level. That, I hear, is called healing.

 

5. Teach me to fill MYSELF with love so that my past need to find it elsewhere never surfaces again…so I am never again tempted to guilt someone into loving me, because that’s not how love works.

 

6. Please provide me with a ground to stand on–a luscious, fertile, soft, supportive ground. I am asking for a human operational blueprint–one that is given and not painstakingly woven from straw, allowing for all the lessons I have learned over the years to not be simply placed in space but rooted on solid ground that allows them to be integrated into my waking reality. I ask for a blueprint that allows for the formation and growth of learned skills, healing, relationships, and movement forward, upward, and outward in life–one that allows me to intuit the laws of self and society without having to construct them from ground up each time. I have been driving this car on manual for so long, refining again and again, but I know there is an aspect of automation to be had, and I’m asking for it.

 

7. Most of all (I mean, the blueprint was a pretty big ask), I am asking for the means to generate love and intuition so that I never act upon the subconscious desire to make others feel guilty simply because I did not know how to ask for what I needed.

 

8. Also, ice cream. More ice cream. I really need me some freaking ice cream.

Space and Time

Space and time.

 

This is a post about inhabited space, negative space, and the time that passes between the two to create a perfect balance of existence in…the moment.

 

(I am about to begin this post by saying “I used to think.” I just realized I’ve begun…MANY…posts like this recently…and I LIKE it.)

 

I used to think space was something to be filled–that filling more of it was always better…in art, writing, music, school, life…everywhere. I used to think saturation was key. Colors had to be bright, sounds heard, things seen. If they weren’t, did they count? Did they matter? Silence, shades of nude, unused lines on a paper…these were all signs of something being incomplete, uncomfortable, open-ended.

 

And this also applied to people and the saturation of time spent with them. If I wasn’t spending all my time with them, what were they doing? And better yet, what was I doing? Would they be aware of my desire to engage with them if the time wasn’t filled with my presence? Didn’t they need a constant reminder of my existence to know they wanted it? Would I be able to handle the time spent away, the time spent just with myself that I heard so many people required? And why was I uncomfortable in this space of the negative, of the open-ended, of the unknown?

 

What I’ve realized recently is that time spent away, the negative space, the shades of nudes and neutrals…they are not only what CREATE desire and allow for contemplation and the formation of past and future “moments,” but they are also NECESSARY–for me, for the art, for the other person in the relationship. If there is no darkness there is no light? That cliche? YES. It’s a cliche for a reason. A deeply fulfilling day spent with someone simply must be followed by time and space. Without it, the time spent before and after have no significance. In essence, if all time was spent with the other person, we would just exist together in a continuum–in all moments, we would cease to exist.

 

Time and space spent without are also essential for me as a person made of energy. In order to recuperate myself, I need isolation. In order to be present in a moment with the energy to sustain it, I need to rebuild it. Ebb. And flow. If my levels of energy were left undifferentiated (either always depleted or always high), again, I would exist in a continuum–I would cease to exist.

 

(This also brings into play the fun idea of spending time “alone-together” with someone–time without spoken words or even acknowledgment of the other. It’s a negative space created within a positive space.)

 

To take this to a more tangible level…a lot of what people think of as modern art (dot on a white canvas) is really just the utilization of time and space–it gives people space to breathe…or not. It’s all a balance of energy. Yes, there have been artistic eras of “more is better,” and there have been eras of “less is more,” but there’s a reason we fluctuate between the two: even within those two seemingly distinct modes, we need time and space away from them.

 

People are energy, words are energy, art is energy, the colors of my clothes are just energy. And we need time away from it all…and with it all. Ah, the motion of energy throughout the universe as we attempt to live in harmony with one another. In reality, harmony is not something that exists: it is a fleeting concept as universal energies briefly align and then misalign through our scope of existence–and that what makes it all so hard…and so silly!!! And so meaningless…and meaningful! It’s everything and it is nothing. So, WHO CARES (someone might)?!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Puttin’ ‘Em Up (On Pedestals)

And just like that we were all walking on the same ground.

 

I will never again put someone on a pedestal, and I say this in a positive way. To put someone on a pedestal above you implies that you feel less-than in some way and that they are better-than–and now I know that is plainly not the case.

 

Simply because someone is an “expert” or “authority” in one area does not mean they are masters in every aspect of his or her life–and they may not even be as “advanced” in that area as you might believe. Just because Fred Rogers was a seemingly inimitable God-like figure in the public does not mean he was a great father or kind husband. Maybe he was, but does it matter? And simply because someone is older does not mean they are a master in…anything–but that’s one I knew from a young age. Wisdom comes not from the passage of time but from experience, deeply and heartfully endured.

 

And these things are important to know. I spent a lot of time believing that because someone seemed to be an authority on something or that they were in a position of power, that I should hold back a part of myself to try and rise to “their level,” that they were in fact on a higher plane of existence because of the appearance of their expertise. Restraint in this way, for me, is exhausting and energy-sucking. It’s actually harmful to me to behave differently based on my perception of the people around me.

 

And that’s the other funny thing…appearance of authority…perception. In the past, I also led myself to believe that quieter people who seemed to have more restraint…were just better than me. They thought more carefully. They were more logical–or intuitive–or whatever I wasn’t. The one who spoke the least or who appeared to care less was the coolest, strongest, most authoritative…expert–and I put them on pedestals for that, making sure I knew I was below in some regard.

 

A good friend recently told me how, when she actually spoke her truth to her husband and called him out for shit, her husband respected it more for it. She didn’t girdle up and try to rise to any level. This irony struck me hard. We realized how we had spent so much time tip-toeing to try to make other people feel comfortable enough in our presence when the reality was that…not…doing that made other people feel free to come down off their own self-made pedestals.

 

So, LOL TO THAT. Not to say that everyone is exactly equal in every way, but most of the time, we just put people on pedestals and try to put on that girdle of restraint to, in some way, appear to be just like “them.”

Questions

I used to think asking questions was a good thing.

And it can be–but not the way I was often doing it. We are taught in our society that asking questions is always a good thing, but we are never asked to distinguish between asking questions out of insecurity and asking questions out of a desire to learn more.

And there’s a key difference between the two: asking out of insecurity comes from a place of negativity, whereas asking out of desire to learn more comes from a place of positivity. One comes from not believing in oneself, and the other comes from believing in oneself as well as one’s ability to take on even more.

In the past, I always asked lots of questions. Teachers loved it–they saw it as me being engaged in the class and always wanting to know more. It was a sign of intelligence, to be so aware of the gap between my knowledge and the full understanding of a subject. And while I am a person who always loves to learn more, that wasn’t REALLY why I was asking.

I was asking because I was afraid I couldn’t come up with answers myself. I was asking because, even if I did come up with an answer, it wouldn’t be the “right” one. I was asking because authority would be able to give me a sense of a security that I desperately craved. I was asking because I needed someone outside of myself to hold me in space.

I have one distinct memory of asking my senior year high school math teacher about how to do a problem. For some reason, no matter how many questions I asked, I could NOT comprehend how to solve this particular problem…which was odd…because I knew that over time I would get it–this concept was newly taught to us, and, yes, this class was SUPER hard. But I didn’t trust that I could go through and figure out how to solve this problem, and so I never did.

So what did I do on tests or in performances when I didn’t have a teacher to guide me and acknowledge my inquisitiveness as a sign of being on the right path? I often bombed. Even though I was just as smart and prepared as the others around me, I bombed before I could even try. And that was my defense–to screw it up before I gave myself a chance.

So basically, I’ve seriously slowed down asking others for…anything. Over the past few weeks I’ve stopped Googling things, texting others for “advice” (mostly haha), or even allowing my mind to think that someone out there is going to save me–and this is super hard and scary. If I can’t depend on others to bail me out, I guess it’s ME who is left in charge. And indirectly, someone made it apparent to me that maybe this is the kind of isolation I need, or that we all need, at least until we can exist as ourselves.

And to conclude, I will share a beautiful metaphor one of my mentors shared with me. She told me, “Katie. Some people can exist as birds–once they heal their ancestors and their current selves, they are done. But you are like a tree–you’ve taken on so much of the world and brought so much into your space, so either you uproot and fly away to become that bird, or you are left healing everyone and everything just so you can be left with enough energy to exist and stand still in one spot on the Earth.”

Everyone’s a Life Coach Musical Sketch

This is the first unrevised draft of an original musical sketch entitled “Everyone’s a Life Coach.” I’ve found that, recently, many people are becoming life coaches upon making it through personal struggles. I actually do believe that this can be a completely valid way to gain proper experience to help others, but because I’m me, I’ve decided to make fun of it anyways.  I think this piece is super dumb, so that means you should read it. It follows the melody of the video I posted on the Facebook if you are so inclined to hear what it may sound like sung aloud. Enjoy.

 

INT. MEDITATION ROOM

Meditators are sitting in silence with the instructor sitting at the front of the room.

INSTRUCTOR
Now, take another deep breath in…and…when you exhale, release all that no longer serves you.

The class inhales and exhales in unison.

INSTRUCTOR
One last time…inhale…and…this time after you exhale…

Everyone inhales deeply, and on the exhale, the instructor yells:

INSTRUCTOR
YOU LOT OF RANDOS ARE OFFICIALLY LIFE COACHES!!!

Everyone develops sparkles in their eyes, standing to jump around and scream/chirp/fart in joy.”Curb Your Enthusiasm”-like music starts to play (real dumb) and continues throughout.

4 bars

INSTRUCTOR
(singing, walking through crowd of nutcases) Everyone’s a life coach. Everyone can tell you what to do.

Gesturing arms outward, walking around room of lunatics.

Everyone’s a life coach. Everyone knows much better than you.
What to do, oh, what to do, everyone can tell you what to do,
Much better than you, they’re better than you, this random-ass person knows what to do.

MARIE (JUST BECAME LIFE COACH)
(talk-singing to instructor) Ok, so one time I was too lazy to Nair my arms, so I decided to shave them and risk bumps forever. BUT-when I discovered that my arms remained smooth post-shave, plus when we exhaled and stuff, I KNEW I could help thousands of people going through the exact same thing!

Everyone in the class cheers her on!

ALL
She knew what to do, oh what to do, so pay her money cuz she’s better than you,

MARIE
I’m better than you, much better than you, so hire for me a hundy, you’ll be a better you.
CAMERA PANS AROUND ROOM

New life coaches writing out new plans, bouncing ideas off of each other…ya know, stuff. The instructor walks around, smiling, encouraging each of her graduates. She walks up to a a man with glistening skin who is humming with his eyes closed.

INSTRUCTOR
(talking) Mark! You are absolutely glowing. What did YOU release on that majestical exhale?

He slowly and obnoxiously opens his eyes.

MARK
Well I am GLAD. YOU. ASKED. I was able to summon all the energy from my deeply-rooted cystic acne and SHIT it out upon the prescribed exhalation…and look at me now!

He levitates and sparkles surround his face. Angels sing.

MARK
And you know what this means…

INSTRUCTOR
Yes…I…do (smiles excitedly)

ALL
(singing) NOW he’s a life coach. Now he can tell you what to do. Now he’s a life coach, now that he knows much better than you.

MARK
Much better than you, much better than you, my lack of qualifications but superior personal experience makes me better than you.

Instructor walks around in a state of knowing pride, saluting, hip-bumping these newly-bred coaches. She finally approaches someone setting up a desk lined with certificates of completed coaching courses.

Matt, dressed in a regular collared shirt and tie, sits at his desk carefully organizing papers and dusting off a corner of his desk.

INSTRUCTOR
(talking) And what is going on over here, Matt?

MATT
(excitedly but with quiet, nerdy voice) Well, as you can see, I went through extensive training before this class, gathering coaching certifications from three different universities and really delving into–
The instructor nods as long as she can but soon begins to struggle for air, about to pass out. The room spins. Music slows.

CAMERA MIMICS EFFECT OF ROOM SPINNING AND SLOWING DOWN

INSTRUCTOR
(sweetly) I want you to know that anyone else in their right mind would be proud of you, but your proper amount of qualifications and strong organizational strategies are killing me…

Music stops. Everyone gasps and comes to the instructor’s side as the life drains from her. A moment of silence as she dies.

Everyone slowly and angrily turns towards Matt who is chattering.

MATT
(nervously singing and snapping without music) What to do, oh what to do, I really think I know exactly–

INSTRUCTOR
(music comes back in strongly, singing) –WHAT TO DO! What to do, oh what to do, I’ve died and come back to life so I know what to do!

Everyone gasps and cheers. She’s alive!

Give me all your money, I’m better than you, I also take payment in the form of desirable body parts so I can tell you what to do…

Music slows happily.

RANDOM PERSON
(talking with ridiculous excitement) IT’S THE ULTIMATE LIFE COACH CERTIFICATION: DYING AND COMING BACK TO LIFE!

Instructor walks through crowd smiling and waving, practically floating. Everyone whispers with excitement.

RANDOM PERSON
(singing as if on a cloud) She’s the ultimate life coach, now she can tell us what to do,
She’s the ultimate life coach, here’s my fucking head just tell me what to do.

He gets a saw ready and everyone lowers him onto a chopping block.

SCENE

 

Comes to Super Cool Coffee Shop to Study LSAT

My observations of a man who came into a coffee shop to study the LSAT, a very serious exam which, if passed, would undoubtedly alter the trajectory of this sideways cap-wearing man’s life. I’ve first posted my original notes. These were my raw thoughts about him and about the thoughts I thought he was having. I’ve then posted an expanded version of my thoughts about him and about his thoughts that I thought he was having. Some of these things were true. Some were not true in reality, but were certainly true in my own version of his reality. Here we go.

 

Comes to coffee shop to study LSAT 

gets cup of coffee first

I’m hungry. Maybe I’ll get a sandwich

Social media needs checking

That’s a cool painting. Wonder how much it is

Water. I need water. No more ice? I can run across the street to get more. 

It’s my moms bday in three months….that teapot looks super chill. Where’s it from? 

Music is great. Who’s playing? I’ll stand by the bar and talk to the barista about it for awhile. They’re playing nearby soon? Wanna go together? No? Ok…

A Girl comes over and comments on how hard law school is. I invite her to sit down. Let’s talk about it. 

I mention this band is playing nearby soon. Wanna go? No…?

Maybe law school isn’t for me. This is already taxing as it is. 

Lunchtime now tho. I wonder if they change the menu between brunch and lunch? 

 

Full version:

Man-boy, who looks to be about 28, sits down and places very slim, curiously slim, LSAT book in front of him. It is important. People must know what he is about to do. He gives people time to see the cover and whisper among themselves about the kind of standup individual who dares to take on such a task as LAW SCHOOL (side note: it appears as though law school was not his decision. He’s clearly too cool and creative for the shenanigans of normalcy).

After ensuring many people around him have seen the book, he gets up, adjusting the book so it is in clear view of…everyone…and gets a cup of coffee. Now, this cup of coffee is no soy latte, no caramel this and that, no macchi-whatever with extra foam–this is a no nonsense cup of good old fashioned American coffee (with three pumps of unsweetened vanilla please, he whispers).

He sits back down and adjusts the coffee so it is at exactly a 45 degree angle to his book, close enough so it is within reach, far enough so that it does not spill all over in the case of an unexpected loss of consciousness. Time to put the pencils out, making sure they’re straight (people will notice), sliding the pencil case about siiiiix-no-eiiighhhttt inches left of book, close enough so it is within reach, far enough so that it–never mind. He puts it back in his bag. It has been deemed unnecessary.

Book is still closed. Man-boy adjusts his cap, eyeballs the asymmetry of his setup, and decides aloud, ” I’m hungry,” so as to make known to us followers that he is not leaving his post for no reason at all, but rather to meet the demands of a primal need of man!!!

“Maybe I’ll get a sandwich.”

Gets a sandwich. It’s messy. Time to wash up.

 

(one hour later)

 

LSAT book is still closed. Social media needs checking. He is simply abiding by the laws of society, and oh, what a drag it is that we live in such a digitally demanding age! He opens Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, and Snapchat (He takes a Snap then remembers he needs to share it on Instagram and Facebook as well. His peers must be alerted to the fact that he IS working hard for his dreams!) “Ok, ok, ok,” he mutters to himself, shaking his head, aware that IT IS TIME TO GET THE BALL ROLLING.

Starts to open book to pageeeeee, “That’s a cool painting. Wonder how much it is,” he probably says to himself. Man-boy gets up, goes over to this mockery of art suspended on the walls of this Super Cool Coffee Spot. “Do I have enough money? When I’m a lawyer, I will have enough money. I should try to become a lawyer.” He does not say any of this, but moves his face very close to a sticker next to the painting so as to find the price of it. “Nah.”

He’s now ready to study this…water. He needs water. HE NEEDS WATER RIGHT NOW. “No more ice,” says the bartender. “My water must be cold. I can run across the street to get more.” He says this. He does this.  

Ice is now in water. Water is now next to coffee. He adjusts the angle. He must appear to be organized, for who in their right mind would hire an unorganized lawyer??? Sip. Another sip. Angle adjustment. Sigh.

Head and sideways hat tilt toward the ceiling. He physically perks his ear up so that he can hear better. This is how hearing works. Wow-music is great. Who’s playing? “I’ll stand by the bar and talk to the barista about it for awhile,” he definitely says in his head. He then stands up, walks to the bar, and talks to the barista about it for awhile. “They’re playing nearby soon,” she says. “Wanna go together?” he says. “No? Ok…” “How much are those brownies?”

A girl comes over and comments on how hard law school is. His book was clearly an invitation, so I invite her to sit down with us. Let’s talk about it; we…must…see this discussion through. Since you’ve been studying so hard, what are your thoughts on the subject, man-boy?

Man-boy notes how, “Maybe law school isn’t for me. This is already taxing as it is.” Book is still closed. Binding implies no to minimal use.

Lunchtime now tho. “I wonder if they change the menu between brunch and lunch?” That’d be a bummer. 

 

Scene.

How to Prepare for Hurricane Irma Based on the Opinion of Your Casually Ignorant Uncle

“Hey, I hear there’s that hurricane comin’. Have you checked the Weather Channel yet? I hear they have terrific off-hours cooking programming. Also there’s a hurricane. And yer gonna die. HEH!”

“Hey, I hear there’s that hurricane comin’. You got a coupla’ cans of beer left in the fridge? Maybe melt ‘em for weapons fer when y’all are fightin’ each other for food in the zombie ‘pocalypse!”

“Hey, I hear there’s that hurricane comin’. I’d get you some extra peanut butter jellies if I was you. Who knows how long you’ll be porchin’ it before Noah’s Ark picks you up! Plus, still zombies. What? No porches in Florida?? HEH.”

“Hey, I hear there’s that hurricane comin’. Maybe if all you’s beach bums squirt out yer sunscreen together, Irma’ll slip ‘n slide over to Canada. Easy. Close. Plus them Canadians will ‘pologize after you wreck ’em. HEH”

“Hey, I hear there’s that hurricane comin’. Now I know yer daddy says it’ll sound like a freight train is passing right over yer head, but I say ‘no-big.’ Thomas the Tank just wants to say ‘hello!’ And then he’ll crush you.”

“Hey, I hear there’s that hurricane comin’. Yer no-good cousin, Jeff, don’t know anything about preparing for hurricanes ‘cause he chose to go to community college and ‘make something of himself!’ Who learns to make extra pbj’s and fight in the damn zombie ‘pocalypse with a book on Mary Poppins? Not HEH.”

“Hey, I hear there’s that hurricane comin’. Make sure you get out yer Monopoly money to use when the only home you got to back to is your green plastic house on Park Bench Place. HEH.”

“Hey, I hear there’s that hurricane comin’. Hope you ‘customed to all uses of a Swiffer pad after you in crisis tryna’ mop up the water. Or yer blood. Or yer fish. Or yer cryin’ mama who is also my sista. Or yer dignity. OR YER DIGNITY.”

“And my one last piece of advice for yer unaccustomed to wildnerness self: make sure when yer moppin’ up yer tears with toilet paper and wipin’ yer butt with that Swiffer pad I told you about, keep me in for a cut of the insurance money. Ya never know when a disaster might affect me (heh).”

 

Party Conversation Starters Derived from the Wisdom of Your Nervous Friend

“Hey, did you know that the dust pile you see by our host’s end table is an accumulation of skin, hair, and your nail clippings along with other bacteria that could be dangerous?

 

“Hey did you know that the right bacteria in the wrong amounts can be dangerous?”

 

“Hey did you know that the napkins everyone is using will grow in number, eventually adding to a landfill that will soon be the size of Oregon and spur the creation of ‘Shit Island’ right near our own sinking Manhattan?”

 

“Did you know that something sinking in the near future will be Manhattan?”

 

“Hey did you know the artificial flavoring in your drink will give you thyroid problems and later cancer? Maybe try V8 in your beverage so as not to disturb the natural equilibrium of your suffering body which will soon crumble under the weight of your toxic decisions.”

 

“Hey, did you know that this building hasn’t been up to code in DECADES and is loaded with asbestos?”

 

“Hey did you know you can also die from asbestos?”

 

“Hey did you know that the antibacterial soap they’ve provided in the bathroom kills all the good bacteria on your hands and leaves you susceptible to diseases that will make you die? Please reference my above mentioning of the dangerous of bacterial imbalance.”

 

“Hey did you know that washing your hands too much in general can make you susceptible to diseases that will also make you die?”

 

“Hey did you know that those crackers you’re eating have artificially enriched bleached flour in them which have high amounts of pesticides and heavy metal and will cause your immune system to fail which will make you die?”

 

“Hey did you know those cute plastic straws that you throw in the trash then end up in the ocean and make their way into the noses and bellies of sea turtles and other animals which causes them to very slowly and painfully die?”

 

“Hey did you know that the super cool hair dye you used to turn yourself into a fucking human anime character is filled with chemicals that will seep into your brain which can cause you a lot of suffering and then also to die?”

 

“Did you know that you dressing as an anime character makes me want to die?”

 

“Hey did you know that all the soda you’re using for mixers comes from plastic containers with known carcinogens that can give you diseases and then you die?”

 

“And also that the sugar from soda can make you die?”

 

“I surely hope you don’t want to die (this can too be used as a standalone conversation starter, despite your doubts).”

 

“Hey did you know that your fish is going to die? That’s just because you’re feeding him shit and he’s wading around in his own urine without any proper filtration system.”

 

“No matter what, we’re all going to die.”