Conversations With Myself (and sometimes other people)
Navigating the crises of American millennial life through inner dialogue, character bits, mediocre impressions, the occasional sit down conversation with a real person, and other questionable acts of "creative expression".
Conversations With Myself (and sometimes other people)
Dear Diary Pt. 1
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Do I really have a dad bod or am I just fat?
Dear Diary. It's been a while since my last entry. Today I opened the fridge and forgot why I was there. When I went out to eat last night, and the server said, Enjoy your meal, I said, You too. I watch shows and movies with closed captioning on, and I'm worried what my friends will think of me if they find out. I keep kicking my six-year-old's ass in Mario Kart. My bad father. I can't let him think things are that easy, right? Gotta prepare him for the real world. Sometimes I'll get to the finish line and park and wait for him to catch up. Then I'll cross the finish line just soon enough to give him hope that he had a chance. And he does get upset. But in that he learns a valuable lesson. And that lesson is if something sounds too good to be true, probably is. Yet, my son keeps asking me to play with him. What will his next lesson be? You can keep doing the same thing over and over again, but you can't expect a different result. What's going on with these vanity license plates? I don't even know what half of them are saying. Is that the point? For them to make us plebs who can't afford vanity plates, to be wondering about them and how they are able to afford them and we are not, and how they're able to afford their electric cyber truck and we aren't? Okay, Hoktua. Guess you like the Hoktua girl. Cool. Hope your power goes out tonight. Why are Costco shoppers such pieces of shit? Nobody has any awareness that other people are there shopping too. The aisles are like twice as wide as a normal store, but they think that that means they and their obese family members can spread out, take the whole aisle for themselves. To be clear, I'm not fat shaming. I just can't stand that there are other people shopping there too. Get out of my way, please. Do I really have a dad bod? Or am I just a fat piece of shit? Are we in a simulation? What is dark matter? How can we know something exists and not know what it is? How do I know I'm real? Maybe this is all just a dream. And if it's a dream, that means I'll eventually wake up, right? What if dying is the dream coming to its end? And you are really just waking up. And when we wake up, where are we? What do we do? I know what I would do. I'd find the first person I see and immediately tell them all about this crazy dream I just had. And then that person would go, oh wow, that's crazy. And no way. And after about five or six, wow, that's crazy. And no way I'd become self-conscious about it, then stop and probably run away in embarrassment. And then a lion would start chasing me. And what happens then? Do I wake up? Oh fuck, you know.