Go Home, Bleak Kids!

Clutter. Old friend and college roommate of mine claimed I was a difficult person to live with. “While you are a germaphobe and clean freak,” he exclaimed, “you are messy and leave trash everywhere and carry with you a tornado of clutter.” I believe that to be a true statement, which is difficult for me to accept or admit. My new home. The drive to keep it as neat as possible will be overcome by my inherent manic and messy nature, which is why I have to force myself into cleanliness. How is that accomplished? One part bed, one part picture, one part computer and one part Bryan. The simple necessities. Living as a minimalist. That is the only way to prevent the rampant dishevelment present in my mind and in my lifestyle execution. Digital camera, cell phone, sidekick, ipod, cd alarm clock, eMac, laptop, voice recorder, printer, scanner, tens of hats, hundreds of DVDs, thousands of CDs, millions of old baseball cards… need I continue? I rarely utilize, admire or even look at the majority of these things, yet they epitomize my existence. A wholly unstreamlined campaign to keep operations as disorganized as possible. I need this to stop.

Clothes are important, to a certain extent. I’ll pretty much do whatever I want with regards to style, not like I’m the cool guy, but I wear what is comfortable for me without paying mind to fashion or being impressive or imposing or anything else of impy nature. Ties can be good, but within the context of a slick suit-style, I prefer a nice jacket over a white button-down with no tie. Just me. What I want to know if how come I get no leniency. Comments regarding my apparel, be it shirt or pants or hat or beanie or shoes are 10-1 with 10 being negative. By negative I mean critical, because people are insecure so they want to get cute on someone trying to live their life without being a charade participator. “Sick façade freaks!! Go Home To Hell!” They’ll even go as far as to say, “you aren’t black, so you can’t wear that.” Or, “you aren’t gay, so that doesn’t work.” That argument doesn’t go with me, not at all. I got a fortune cookie today, and my lucky numbers read, “22, 14, 17, 34, 22.” No. That’s like saying, “my favorite beverages are Diet Dr. Pepper, Mudslides, Tonic Water and Diet Dr. Pepper.” You can’t say that outfit would work if I were black or gay. If I were wearing shorts made for someone who is 5’4”, you could say, “that would work on you if you were 5’4”.” Ok, perfect. But you need to come with something other than I’m white and straight as the reason that my hat doesn’t sit right with you.

This child molester was released from prison and returned back to his small community in wherever, CA. Parents of the community lined the streets and had their kids holding cardboard signs in both Spanish and English that read, in scrawled, black Sharpie child-print, “Bad Man,” “Not In My Neighborhood,” and my personal favorite, “Go Home To Hell.” Yeah, I could probably make that up. But I didn’t. Little kids standing alongside the highway at 6:30 in the morning holding “Go Home To Hell” signs. If that doesn’t cheer you up and make you optimistic about the future, then, well, just go home and shoot yourself. Last Sunday I felt compelled to rush a Liquor store to acquire four quarters, broken from my George Washington in order to purchase a copy of the Sunday Daily News. Headline in bold, middle of the front page read, “Future Bleak For Kids.” There ya go. Plaster that on the front page of the Sunday news for all skateboarding, bike riding, go-carting, walking, rope-jumping and skipping children to peruse on their way to buy ecstasy and give handjobs for pocket money. Not like it matters anyway. Kids don’t skateboard, bike ride, go-cart, walk, jump rope or skip these days anyway. That’s only a few in the long line of reasons why their future is bleak. Diabetes, carcinogens, bad parenting, trash heap school systems, no exercise, no morals, no scruples, no guidance. That’s the beginning. Then you have dastardly drugs, disorderly decadence, disgruntled dads, ditzy divorcees, dark, depraved demigods spouting disinformation and hackneyed, untalented writers given a forum to get loud on topics out of their control. Even if they were in my control, one kid at a time, which in a way I suppose they are, would I do anything about it? I could quit the affiliate business and become a teacher if I cared so much, but then again, you know what, I was a personal tutor for troubled kids for a number of years, and when our hour was up they would go home and that hour didn’t mean jackpiece.

So go home to hell if you want to criticize me for pushing Orexis peepee hardener and free ipod accessories all day long. That’s what I do. What else should I be doing? The future may not be quite as bleak as the Daily News would like you to believe. Bunch of sensationalist media whoremongers, interested in disinterest and only at peace when causing dystopia and disturbance. May’s Take- always a utopia, never a significant occurrence.