A child who was born with a severe growth on his face is now a 40-year-old man, and has won $430 million off a lottery jackpot.
“I always liked him.” Said the hot girl who never liked him.
“He was my best friend.” Said his bully.
“He’s my son and I love him so much.” Said his substitute teacher from 3rd grade.
(This article should be read in the style of a motivational foreign instagram meme page.)
When the grasshopper told the rhino, “I want to grow.” The rhino responded, “Silly grasshopper, you’re already grown.” And the sun shined down for 40 more years.
That’s the kind of copy you can see below these strange motivational poster-esque pictures scattered throughout the internet.
I like those.
Actually I don’t, I change my mind, once I read that out loud.
I thought about it.
And I don’t.
Actually, I do, now that I hear myself considering not liking it, it makes me want to actually like them because now I feel bad for them. I feel bad for anything I don’t like.
Because I think I have a low bar for liking most things. I like most movies just because I’m proud that the people came together to put in the time and effort to make it.
So few movies I would say, “I didn’t like it.”
I guess I’m picky with some things, but I want to believe that for the most part I will be neutral or positive in my resting disposition.
WHAT THE FUCK AM I TALKING ABOUT!?
I’m supposed to be writing about the kid with the birth defect who won the lotto!
Not rambling about this! At a time like this!? Israel is at war, Chicago is under water, (huh?) New England is covered in clams.
It’s just too much!
And yet it’s never enough.
I always want more.
Or at least more of the level of what I’m used to.
I want things to stay comfortable forever, but with just less anxiety or unsettling feelings of global dread. A depth or dearth and I quibble of whimsy.
WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN!?
I just put words together sometimes, just to see what they look like.
I wonder, “Oh, I wonder what that word would look like next to this word?” Then I do it.
Like watch this.
Pyrex nasal cavity.
Nadia Vlosdonovich forgot her bakers dozen at the Oval office.
Isn’t that interesting?
Words next to each other simply for the phonetic aesthetic?
Now that’s a good pairing!
I could just eat that up all day.
*SHHLIP SHLIP SHHEEEELIPP SHELIP*
That’s the sound of me slurping up that yummy letter jumble. Ugh, so tasty, I can’t get over it, I need more.
Hold on, I’m going back for seconds.
*SHHHLIP SHLIP SHLIP SHLIP SHLIPP*
Oof. I’m stuffed.
That was a lot of wordage to ingest.
(I then let out a loud belch)
Ex-squeeze me! (I say in a feminine voice.)
Ok, I’ve got to pull the rip cord on this article before it gets too weird, even I’m getting uncomfortable as I’m writing it.
But you know what they say,
“It’s not great art unless you become absolutely repulsed by it while you’re making it.”
Yea. That’s what it is they say.
I remember it like it was… Tomorrow.
Ooooo bet you didn’t think I was going to type that, did you?
You didn’t! Exactly.
I’m always one step…. Tomorrow!
Ok, not as good that time.
I’m out of here. Goodnight old blog website that we used as kids, an example of which I can’t think of a good one at the moment. I feel like one of them had the word “journal” in it or “diary,” I don’t know. You figure it out and let me know. WhatsApp me when you get it together.