Tag Archive: fake


Autobiography

I was born yesterday. Today I am twenty and some number of months, but that does not matter. Of all the times that matter in a man’s life, right now matters the least, if it matters at all. I am constantly asked what I am going to do when I get out of school or what I did to get into school or what I had for breakfast or if I want to do something later tonight. Nobody asks why I’m doing what I’m doing when I’m doing it because it doesn’t matter. It mattered when it was the future and it will matter when it becomes the past, but when it’s the present it is insignificant. So, with that in mind, I will tell you how I got here and where I will go after I leave this place.

When I was born, as I mentioned earlier, I was a baby. It tends to be that people are born as little versions of themselves and then the grow up to be regular sized versions and then shrink again until they die, if they live long enough to get that far on the eternal timeline. I was born at the very end of that timeline, the far left end where time went from a dot to a line, grew up itself from one dimension into two. I grew up with it and as it got bigger and longer I got older and more experienced. At the beginning I flew through the cosmos, trying to find a nice place to settle down and live out my life. I didn’t find one, but I did end up here on Earth. There was still a lot of lava and shit back then, not much in the way of water or life or HD TVs. It was kind of boring, but only in retrospect, as there was nothing to compare the experience to. Lava is pretty slow unless it is erupting from a volcano and we all know how often that happens. The next day there were dinosaurs and they were fun to watch. They ate each other and plants and were pretty big. Some of them swam in the ocean which appeared overnight and some of them flew in the air. I went to sleep again and they were all gone. There were a bunch of little mammals in their place and they were cute to watch. They grew almost instantly into apes and those grew again into people. Or the people and all the other animals that walked the earth at that time were just poofed there; I can’t recall which way it happened. It doesn’t matter either, they were there and they began to make towns and cities and the next day they were flying in the sky and later that day they were flying to the moon and beyond. It was like the best season of 24 ever. And now we’re here, twenty somethings later and I am writing this sentence. Next I will write the next one and then the one after that. After I’m done I’ll print it out and hand it into you, the teacher, and then you’ll read it but I’ll have forgotten about it by then. Monday you might read it out loud or you might just hand it to me with a little note on the bottom of the page that says “fun read” or “interesting” or “what a load of bullshit”. After that I’ll graduate and become a famous author or screenwriter or I’ll die in a horrible clown-car vs. hot-air-balloon crash and I might be famous from that, too. Even more likely than any of those things happening, though, is that I’ll find a person to spend the rest of my life with and we will have kids and live happily ever after, but without all of the famous stuff. Or I might never work up the courage to ask somebody I like to go out and I’ll die at home when I’m 80 with my cats and they will eat my dead body like that one time on CSI or Law and Order: Super Awesome Unit. But when that happens it will be the present for a second, and it won’t matter until it turns from the future to the past.

Your Mom is Fake

Here’s another Friday Writing. I think you’ll get all the context you’ll need.

Last week there was, I believe, a complaint about the Friday Writings (now with caps) being too self-referential. You didn’t actually read them, as that would defeat the purpose, but from what I gathered, the FW’s that talk about FW’s are, at least in the opinion of two of our fellow classmates, stupid. I don’t know if it was a quote when you said that they wanted to “talk about something that was real” or whether that was a paraphrase on your part. Either way, it’s pretty stupid. What makes anything worth more than anything else? There seems to be a value judgment based on whether the topic of conversation pertains to our daily lives or if it just exists in that misty realm that is everything else, aka real=worthy while not real=unworthy. I am here to tell you that both are equally worthy. What I say goes, so listen up.

After the laments of last week our beloved teacher read to us a story about a friendship on the decline. I have been through this with two people whom I counted as BFFs (best friends forever), so I have some experience in the field. The good thing is that now that our relationship is over I can make up anything I want about them. I still care about them and I wish them no harm, but since our separation I am convinced that my best friend throughout elementary school has become the last medieval knight. He roams the land and kills dragons and rescues hot damsels in distress. It’s a lot of fun for both of us. I could look him up on Facebook and find out that he is just some guy going to college like the rest of us, but what’s the point of that? It’s as real to me as the other scenario. Why not make up a fantastical story for him to live out? Cuz it’s not real? That’s a poor excuse if I ever heard one. And I have heard several, after uttering them myself.

Here’s another example for ya. I need to pad this out a bit. Every semester there is at least one teacher who does the “go around the room and tell us about yourself” routine. It’s not a bad idea, just a little overused. I propose something slightly different for your next class. Have each person say three things about themselves, but have them make up one of them. Encourage a little fun and imagination in the typical introductory period. One could say, “Hi, my name is _______. I’m a painter and I travel to Los Angeles to be an extra in films every summer. I also enjoy standing out alone in the rain,” or “I enjoy eating iPods, French fries, and bananas,” or “I am a knight who roams the land and kills dragons. I also like music and meeting new people.” Just because things aren’t “real” doesn’t mean they don’t mean things. Think on that for a second or two.