Lazy Dad, Validity, Last Night, Gas Stations vs. Bagel Stores
There are a lot of imaginary people there in my online boxing workouts, and sometimes I try them on and for a moment we mesh together, and I have found one and I am excited to announce that his invisibility has scored and slipped its way into me: lazy dad. While the hardest working people in imaginary and physical realm gyms are most often girls in beautiful outfits with hard legs, there is usually one lazy dad there too, and he is trying. And while the girls come and go, lazy dad is always there, in sweatpants. He works his body at his own pace, which prevents injuries and is most likely why his attendance is so regular. He doesn’t elicit envy, or lust, or the twinkle of a champion, but instead, he twinkles like a soft place. He gets his name not from being a dad, or from being lazy, but from the sweetness of the ever popular dad bod- which is recognized far and wide for it’s charm, and from the ease of laze. I am proud and elated to announce that lazy dad and I have merged so deeply that I am him now, our breech extending far beyond the gym, melting into other arduous and non arduous tasks, like painting barbie portraits, making phone calls, and writing this. Stay soft to stay hard. We are here to stay.
Earlier this week I read something about messy feelings, those that lead to non- events, are unsure of their directionality, invite unease. Sometimes I forget that reading is where I don’t feel alone, I never had this realization as often smart kids did at the library after school because I have never been interested in fiction, except if it was horror. I guess I could say that I did lose myself in the story of Jenny, her boyfriend Alfred, and the green ribbon around her neck. If you know you know. I also remember loving the heart wrenching tragedy of chicken soup for the soul, and the incredibly sexy pictures of the American Girl coming of age I am A Girl book. I am so glad to remember this feeling, as isolation is hard because times of flow and union to anything are far and wide. Anyways, this as well as in all the other things I have been looking at this week there is a lot of talk about feelings and validation. Sometimes I feel crazy because for me saying something about how I feel and having it echoed back to me does nothing to validate anything. Like trust, the word validation almost means nothing to me. And having someone repeat back a phrase that has been made for these types of things or exactly what I just said makes me feel like I am screeching hopelessly into a cavern, with no one around me in any direction to hear me ever ever again. I am glad that these things exist for people who they make happy and I fear that this isn’t to say that I’m horrible (am I?) in the way that I need everyone to act to fix things for me. I’m chill bro. I just don’t think that these methods of validation work for me. More than anything I want to sit by a tree in the grass at dusk sulking by myself and have a buddy come up and give me a beer, and to just sit there looking out at a lake or something.
I got spanked for the first time last night- like actually spanked and it was fun. Im kind of sitting here being like- why has this yet to have happened to me, but I guess you could call my a late bloomer. On Zoom last night a really smart person who feels in touch with spirits said she saw me as a chrysalis filled with sticky crystallized goo all around me that I just need to reach out and touch. I think thats true for me. Anyways I always thought getting spanked would give me the kind of feeling I get from going on a run, where I feel high and floating out of my body, but instead I got a headache, and I felt like laughing and singing. I want to do it again. Really fun not knowing what to expect.
People at gas stations love me and people at bagel stores hate me. This has become a constant in my life. I think it most definitely has something to do with speed, I’m too fast for a gas station and too slow for a bagel store. I also often buy toys at gas stations along with my snacks which maybe people don’t usually do. I also think bagels are just okay. And I love the smell of gas stations and 7-11s. Maybe they can tell.
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References:
The Green Ribbon story
Boys at the Gym
Chicken Soup for the Soul
American Girl Caring and Keeping Of You
Andrea Long Chu, Study in Blue: Trauma, Affect, Event
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My Books This Week:
Girl Wash Your Face - Rachel Hollis
Lauren Berlant- Cruel Optimism
The New Topping Book- Dossie Easton and Janet W. Hardy
Braving the Wilderness- Berne Brown
