…I’m a jerk.
I don’t think anything can sum up how I feel right now better than this excerpt from the 1979 Steve Martin masterpiece that was ‘The Jerk':
I don’t need any of this! I don’t need this stuff! And I don’t need you!
I don’t need anything!
Except this…this ashtray…and that’s the only thing I need is this!
I don’t need this or this! Just this ashtray!
…and this paddle game.
The ashtray and the paddle game, and that’s all I need!
And this…remote control.
The ashtray, the paddle game, and the remote control – that’s all I need.
…and these matches.
The ashtray, and these matches, and the remote control, and the paddle ball.
…and this lamp.
The ashtray, this paddle game, and the remote control, and the lamp, and that’s all I need.
And that’s all I need, too! I don’t need one other thing! Not one…I need this.
The paddle game, and the chair, and the remote control, and the matches for sure.
Well, what are you looking at? What do you think I am? Some kind of a jerk or something?
That’s all I need!
Except the ashtray, the remote control, the paddle game, this magazine and the chair.
I don’t need one other thing.
Except my dog.*
And no…the mocking nature of the film’s title did not escape my attention.
I want to move on. From everything. From all the comforts I’ve grown accustomed to. Because it’s holding me back, stopping me from getting enough inertia to escape the black hole my life has become. Alright, black hole analogies sound a bit depressing, but fuck it – that’s where I am at the moment!
I need to kill the comforts before they kill me. These are not beneficial creature comforts, they are not a familiar pair of slippers or a well-worn jumper – they are bad habits and shitty excuses.
I can’t do A because I have to do B. “Why do you have to do B?” *shrug* I always do B…no reason really. “Then why not do A instead?” Shhhh *does B*
I really, really want to leave it all behind and start from scratch. Scrap the superfluous, remove the redundant, and fling the futile parts of my life far into the sun. In truth there is nothing I need to keep. My books maybe, my passion for writing, other than that it should be a case of sticking a For Sale sign up and letting go. And I’m not just talking about material possessions here, as much as it would be nice to have a bit more breathing room at home. I’m talking the whole shebang – lifestyle, habits, excuses, worries, apologies, selfishness AND selflessness (you see why this is so complicated now), fears, suspicions, modesty, self-destructive patterns, timidity, shyness, dependence, anger…the list is feckin’ endless.
But maybe I can make a dint.
I don’t know.
Probably not the first or best step, but definitely one step, is to keep on posting here. Even if it is just inane rambles like this one…doesn’t matter as long as I stay connected. As long as I keep talking bollocks, coming up with new expressions (see chuff monkeys, holy crap donkeys on radioactive scooters from Pluto, etc. ), and keep posting semi-nude/totally-weird pictures.
But I will hold on hope.
And I will change my ways.
And see the world hanging upside down…?
‘Cause I need freedom now.
And I need to know how.
To live my life as it’s meant to be…fuck…did I slip into a Mumford & Sons song?
* Keen film fans will spot I cut the quote before the jerk decides he doesn’t need Shithead (his dog) after all. I do need my dog. Very much so.