Notes From The Underdog.
Authentically Rejected: 22 January 2025.
Something from my notes app…
How embarrassing is it when you find yourself apologising to an empty chair! My bulky bag swings left and right as I manoeuvre my way to the front of the tram. I was going to stand and I did for 3 minutes facing the man whose foot I had stamped on the way in. I stink of clumsiness, cheap coconut body mist and stale cigarettes. I look the part with my scruffy black pumas trainers that the dog chewed months ago. They keep telling me the pink ones are better, shoes not dogs.
I don’t like the thick chunk of a sole on them. This dusty pale pink isn't my kind of pink. I feel too tall for wedged heeled pumps and anyway my legs are far too lazy for lifting those fuckers gracefully. Third tram of the day is dead. Almost empty no fat hips and arses for me to avoid bumping into or frown about being too close in my way. I sit still and stay straight faced trying not give the game away.
I don't belong here. I'm not comfortable in my own skin anymore.
I have no interest or desire to be noticed or seen. These people around me are all in tact. They have no desire to look at me or chat. I don't know what they're thinking when they see me here in front of them. It is none of my business. Any of those men might find me repulsive and the women might even feel a bit sorry for me or just glad they haven't got this bad. I don't do anything to participate in sharing this journey on public transport. Nothing feels like I am sharing time with strangers.
I think of the tram crashing and my reaction to save them all. I am the sort of person who has a lot of people who have been in contact with me and they have an instant change of persona after the first minute of communication. I don't know what I do to get an instant dislike but I know I see it and shut down instantly. I'm not sure if it's just the way I look or how I am dressed - or because I don't sound sincere, or my voice throws them off guard because its too soft for my frame, if they don't expect me to say something different to the generic response that all people say.
If I surprise them with my unique take on whatever it is they've said to me - I don't think I can do anything Everything is finite and so am I. In the distance I hear the church bells ringing. Behind the sound of the screaming tram and I can't wait to be back home I run through visions of near future activities and it strokes the back of my anxiety. Soothed by the scenes And saved by the sounds around me I don't know when I stopped doing this but all of a sudden I breathed again.
Letter to readers (and all loyal Chasers!)
Those were the days when I had the brave enough face to address my people as mates in an over familiar way. How fun it felt to have figured out such a shitty play on words salutation which I thought was amazing and brought us all back in one place closer together.
I forget that I am writing this for no audience, no reader or chaser exits because if I let you become a reality, I shall rely on you indefinitely, and be needy and feel rejected when you leave as they all seem to do. I can hear the children from the movie ‘IT’ all being allured to quit the chase, slip through the drain and all my haters be sat there grinning. Laughing at my publication sinking, showing off to be doing much better. They are still on top “we all float down here” or whatever. I’m not bitter.
Authentically Rejected…
It’s one day away from having my medication reinstalled. Can’t say I’m not looking forward to it but even then it might mean a week or two of apathy or boredom a heaviness that stands alone. So differently from the weight of my soul desperately trying to stay afloat, sometimes, like now - aiming to swim in the face of defeat. I do, I feel deflated and defeated. I can’t win if I am authentically rejected, not just by people I want, or people who read me or people I need to be near me, or people who need me - what if I am not in allegiance with my authentic self. What then?
Less Discipline MORE Motivation…
I did this blog post/email, because I managed to channel some motivation. I did a slight shift of character to get this post done. It’s a little poke of the tongue behind those UN-subscriber’s backs, not a huge fuck you or an honest weep. Just a snide and shy roll of the eyes and tip of this so-called-vicious tongue of mine. I have come to realise that this trick really works for me. Fake it and fucking make it. Make your art. DO your thing. I create better work when I am fuelled on motivation so fuck being disciplined. Who is going to last longer in a competition. Say a race or a test. An engineer doing the work every day but hating the job. Instead they apply discipline to get them through it? I hate doing anything that I hate and I hate the fact that I hate it so don’t do it. Long story short and moral to this information is THIS: focus more on switching your character to a more motivated version of yourself while you’re doing what you need to get done. Discipline is all good but it’s not the main player here. Motivation wipes the eye off Discipline’s face. Try it and see what you think.
Thanks for reading…
I know you were here there’s really no need to do anything else now. Just go along and have yourself a nice day. You have your own head to keep happy, your world to be dealing with. Enjoy your life and come back again soon. Don’t be a wet wipe! If you feel like showing some love to a struggling shithead like myself, all my subscriptions will always be FREE but you could hit the heart or restack or kiss me quick (as the old Blackpool cowboy hats used to say on the front). To send me a much needed kiss click the tab link below. I love you regardless! xx
