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Jan. 2nd, 2015
High Resolutions - 2015
Jan. 2nd, 2015 08:02 pmWith all the earnestness of an Agnes Scott freshman ready to make their first lap dive into Clam Cove, USA, folks keep swearing that this is going to be the year they make bold mistakes & grand new failures. They recite the oft quoted Beckett chestnut about 'failing harder', which to me just reads like the world's worst half-time pep talk, one given to a team long beyond any chance of making the spread much less winning. They hold their chin up proud when they drop Gaiman's consolation speech on the importance of dropping the ball, as if nothing else it proves they were at least in the game. Know this - they swear, make no mistake - they vow, great things are about to go down... and by down they mean in flames, Daedalus style.
To which I can only smile at these friends and other strangers with complete admiration for their courage even as I mutter unheard in their ranks - "Amateurs".
I was a fuck-up artist long before being a fuck-up artist was the new black. Offering, if not a beautiful loser, then at least one not too hard on the eye or ear. Why some folks I know will tell you that it was the role I was born to play. Shit, even got me a whole 320 pages of first draft about it called "The Life Unreadable".
But here's the thing. I'm not just tired of failing, I'm not just sick of failing, I'm fucking bored of failing. You guys, gals and post-gender entities want to roll up your sleeves and raising your hand high to volunteer for Operation Lose, well good luck with that. Though really, I suspect I should be wishing you the opposite.
Me?
I need a new gig and not making mistakes sounds like a pretty sweet one to me.
So that's my resolution for this year and hell even if I only do a half-ass job of it, I'll be exactly one half-an-ass further along the road than where my ass is now and that's the state of 'Sorry'.
What can I say? I've been a little win-curious for awhile now and who know knows? With the right absence of alcohol, inner-doubt and outer-loathing I might even go all the way.
Either way wish me luck.
To which I can only smile at these friends and other strangers with complete admiration for their courage even as I mutter unheard in their ranks - "Amateurs".
I was a fuck-up artist long before being a fuck-up artist was the new black. Offering, if not a beautiful loser, then at least one not too hard on the eye or ear. Why some folks I know will tell you that it was the role I was born to play. Shit, even got me a whole 320 pages of first draft about it called "The Life Unreadable".
But here's the thing. I'm not just tired of failing, I'm not just sick of failing, I'm fucking bored of failing. You guys, gals and post-gender entities want to roll up your sleeves and raising your hand high to volunteer for Operation Lose, well good luck with that. Though really, I suspect I should be wishing you the opposite.
Me?
I need a new gig and not making mistakes sounds like a pretty sweet one to me.
So that's my resolution for this year and hell even if I only do a half-ass job of it, I'll be exactly one half-an-ass further along the road than where my ass is now and that's the state of 'Sorry'.
What can I say? I've been a little win-curious for awhile now and who know knows? With the right absence of alcohol, inner-doubt and outer-loathing I might even go all the way.
Either way wish me luck.
