Thursday, August 25, 2011

T.F.N. (Too Fucking Nice)

Alright enough with the pondering of existence. We have established that there ain't that much to ponder. Let's a do a little Josh-Life-Update. What I'm working on and why nothing's working out. Let's call it T.F.N. as in Too Fucking Nice as in Josh is Too Fucking Nice.

I quit my job and started another one. I put in my 2 week notice, you know, typical process. It is over 4 weeks later and I'm still here. Slogging at my old job while I balance shifts at my new job. 14 hour days are really amazing things but don't need to be experienced consecutively. I could have just quit and walked out. Had a short, easy going vacation and started my new job. No, instead I offered my services in finishing all my tasks and training a replacement. See? Too Fucking Nice. The funniest part is...I'm still fucking here! Right now! Being Too Fucking Nice. Saying "Yes I will do whatever you need" as I barely keep my brain awake.

Here's another scenario. A friend visits me, one of those "I'm absolutely in love with you but there's nothing I can do about it since we're friends" deals and I spend 4 or 5 days playing host and what not. All fun and games. For anyone who has been in that situation it's like getting punched in the stomach every hour, on the hour. Just absolute powerlessness. Your ego fights back by making you think you can will yourself into someone's romantic favor. But you never can. I've tried 9,834,372,000 times. It never works. You continue to make yourself available, helpful and generally wonderful to this person. Too Fucking Nice. The girl runs off with some piece of shit and I wake up with a bargain bin discount chick I picked up at a bar. Wax on, wax off. Too Fucking Nice.

Then friends of mine hilariously think of me as a 'terrible person' for some of my less reputable actions. Because that's what I show. They never see the long days of work, the dedication to my music, the discipline in my diet and exercise routines, the time I spend talking to people about their personal problems and legitimately helping them out with advice, the genuine love I feel for someone. No one sees that. My brain tells me "Josh, you're Too Fucking Nice" but all anyone else knows is my cartoony disposition. This would be fine if one day I get buried in a cartoon coffin in a cartoon cemetary but I won't. I get buried in a real one. Because I'm a real fucking person.

And I'm Too Fucking Nice.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Accidentally Here for No Reason

The human condition is something we all struggle with. Nothing makes sense, bad things happen to good people, suffering is abundant and it never seems to change. We invent platitudes like "Gotta have the sour to enjoy the sweet" and continue on our merry way. What is even more disheartening is that you can't prepare yourself for the violent ramifications of existence. Nor can you try to help anyone else. You are forced, in your sacred first person perspective, to withstand infinite punishment without the benefit of explanation or compensation. We have named this tedious process 'life' and made ourselves believe that it should be cherished. Oh, silly human condition.

As I stated, you cannot prepare yourself for this experience. Education means nothing - words, history. math and science are glorified hobbies when put up against the universe. No clever wisdom will shine a light on your mundane humanity and no learned lessons will be of any good to your children and their children. Like getting attacked by a shark, it is impossible to imagine the situation accurately without being - you know - attacked by a shark. Thus, you and the rest of reality are thrust into the great unknown, learning the limits ourselves (physically, mentally) little by little with each consecutive deliverance of pain upon our being.

In this sad state of affairs, illusions are absolutely necessary. Religion works as a great pacification tool but things like love and wealth fall into the same category. A human being fulfills its needs for food and shelter. Then it moves onto the next. This is part of that infinite process. One million unanswered prayers doesn't stop that one millionth and one prayer from being made. A dozen broken hearts doesn't stop the romantic. A string of bad business ventures doesn't distract the entrepreneur from his next scheme. It is ingrained in the human condition to carry on despite the very obvious lack of reason. There's no grand goal or finish line. There is only ebb and flow, high tide and low tide. With full understanding of this absurdity in tow, death seems to be the obvious punchline to this cosmic joke.

I guess we'll have to dig up Edgar Allan Poe to see if he's laughing.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Guess who's holding the dynamite?

I quit that fucking job.

So here we go again, Universe. You, me and the infinite.

Your move, fucker.