The Weblog

Home for the heteronomous

Friday Afternoon Confessional: squatting

Somebody asked me what I was doing here.

I gave that somebody an answer but confess I don’t feel I got an answer myself. Sure, I am here. Yes, I am doing something. But what am I doing here?

Squatting, I guess.

Or maybe writing an interminable list of suicide letters. If I keep on doing this, like many a writer did, it’s the surest thing to keep me alive for a while.

But isn’t that squatting as well?

I confess the question is somewhat unsettling. It seems impossible to confine it to this old Weblog. The question flies like a butterfly from here to there and leaves crap everywhere. I can’t complain. That’s the problem: I can’t come plain. I come with a lot of air, hot for the most part. Forgive me if I don’t keep my feet on the ground. I’m an airhead and the more I think of it, the less I know what I am doing here.

I am not alone in that. That’s not attractive. People who always know what they’re doing wherever they are, now those are attractive. It’s good they are few and far between as their ego’s clashing is an event on a nuclear scale. I confess the rest of us are just fuel to power their actions with our reactions. So that’s what I’m doing here: burning some surplus fuel. Squatting, hiding, occupying other people’s space.

I should call names and just get to my point.

Trump, Cruz.

I confess that I feel like I should apologize. To make sure the apology counts, I’ll apologize to myself. Feel free to feel addressed. I am sorry for insisting on writing this floating stuff which addresses nobody on nothing whatsoever. I don’t know why I do it. I just do. Best to see it as an addiction. I get addicted easily. I remember well my first addiction. It’s actually the very first thing I can remember. That addiction was me.

Not like it ever got me really to an I. Most of the time I in fact make me really low. Get it? I don’t. I’m just squatting. I confess I feel the need to explain myself. That’s what I’m doing here. I further confess that I don’t really feel the need to explain myself. In fact, I really do not. Get a life, why don’t you sir? Get out of the plain, why don’t I sir? Because it is so very nice and comfortable here, that’s why!

Imagine setting up a WordPress theme, fixing menu’s, filling them, linking stuff. It would tire me out. Can’t be bothered. Can be bored the ‘t. People should never go the extra mile – that I sincerely believe to be true. Every single time I forgot that simple convenient truth I lost myself and wound up feeling positively nuclear. Now I remember I’m feeling stellar in the negativity I have found again. That will do for today.

So, dear reader, how do you feel like today?

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March 11, 2016 - Posted by | boredom, Friday Afternoon Confessional | ,

3 Comments

  1. Like a perfectly floating little shit.

    Comment by JoB | March 11, 2016

  2. Squatting is a noble pursuit! Don’t let anyone make you feel like a shit. “Perfectly floating,” however, sounds delightful. Abrazos, JoB.

    Comment by Josh K-sky | March 14, 2016

  3. Hey Josh, thanks for the kind words. This place misses you (and everybody else, but especially you). Don’t worry, I’ll keep it occupied ;-).

    Comment by JoB | March 19, 2016


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