I Feel Entitled to a Bad Movie
An hour sitting in a chair daydreaming, with the occasional click of the camera, two hours of idle link gathering and writing nonsense, one hour of intensive and productive writing, and this somehow makes me feel entitled to head back inside to watch a bad movie. I don’t know, feels like sometimes when I chose the road less traveled it was less traveled for a reason, like you get lost. Somewhere along the line, you get lost.
Though justifying it all has its rewards so I tell myself getting lost is the first step in authentic living. Lose the you you’ve come to rely upon in order to create a truly integral self. The fear is the integral self is a hollow, timorous beast and craves a puffy chair whereby it may sit unattended and unbothered hastily stuffing Cheetos and Coke down its throat while watching badly made movies as it eagerly awaits the start of the Red Sox game. Worse fates I suppose. Could lose the self and find out you’re really a politician. The horror.
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