Humor

I’m all over the shop.

Dear Self,

I feel impatient.

I feel like I want certain things to have happened, or be happening for me and they are not and I just hate waiting for it all to happen.

No particular thing is clear. I want more focus.

I’m all over the place.

Me, me, me.

I don’t know what to do with my privilege.

I don’t event know how to spell privilege. I want to put an ‘a’ in it. But I have a spell check that tells me I’m wrong.

I feel like there is nothing solid to stand on today.

This is a very important day not to take myself seriously.

This too shall pass.

Luke

I don’t know what I’m doing.

Dear Self,

It is becoming increasingly obvious to me that I don’t know what it is that I’m doing.

Whatever it is it requires me to get in and out of a lot of taxis. Taxi drivers and hairdressers love to ask you what you do.

When they ask me I don’t know what to say. I have this crisis of identity where I realise I am unable to categorise myself in a way that matches both the social norms of the situation, which require an answer that opens an easy doorway to a conversation about that thing I do, and the reality of the multi-layered life I have created for myself.

It’s not that I don’t like what I do and so don’t want to say it. It probably looks like I’m embarrassed and avoiding the question. It’s not that. I just struggle to construct a version that feels right.

I think there‘s a little battle going on between what I want to be, what I think I should be, what I am, what others think I am, what I have skills in and what I could be skilled at.

I feel very confused.

I really like what I do.

Maybe I just need a job title so I feel validated by the world.

I really would like to sort this out.

Luke

Some people don’t like me.

Dear Self,

Not everyone likes me.

Over several years now this has become obvious.

Some people are just plain stupid, and so they don’t like me.

Some people are really cool and they think I’m not and so they don’t like me.

Some people don’t like what I said, I might not like what I said, but seeing as they don’t like what I said, they don’t like me.

Some people think I said something, which I never said, and now they don’t like me.

Some people don’t know me and I wish they knew me but they never met me and so don’t know me and so I pretend that they don’t like me.

Some people like someone else better than me so they spend their time with them and that feels like they don’t like me but really we just never met.

Some people aren’t interested in the things I’m interested in and are completely uninteresting people to me except for that brief window where I want them to come along to a show I’m making or read something I wrote or open an email I sent or something like that and so when they don’t I get all upset because they don’t like me.

Some people unsubscribe from my email list maybe for a million different reasons but I, of course, think the only real reason is that they don’t like me.

Mostly these people are imaginary people and their dislike of me is also imaginary. Sometimes they are real people who really don’t like me.

Some people like me. I think that spending all this time thinking about all these people who don’t like me is very ungrateful and a little bit silly.

What do you think?

Luke