Recently I was talking to a friend of mine, who knows I'm blogging here, and I mentioned that I've been using a lot of time writing recently, because, you know, I'm trying to attain a life of some sort (I know, 'Internet' and 'getting a life' don't usually go well hand in hand). And he said that it's good because "the more you write, the more you will get out of it." I've never thought about it this way but I realized: "Of course!"
The more you write, the better you become at it. The better you become at it, the more you like to write.
Like it's such a no-brainer really. When you are good at writing, you can offer your skills with freelancing, for example. But that's the case in pretty much anything: the better you are the more you can benefit from it, right?
I don't know whether I could ever be making a living only in Steemit, it is quite uncertain environment. But might as well try do something to drag my ass somewhere. Although I have come up some other plans too, on how to live, like the classic fake-your-own-death-for-the-insurance-money con. I thought I could make a post announcement for it, because that should be enough evidence itself when I'm telling the insurance company by myself that I'm dead.
Or maybe I could be a nomad. This idea fascinates and terrifies me at the same time, probably because I don't have much of a travelling experience (yet). I've also thought how ridiculously much it costs to have a roof on top of your head. So I thought maybe I could just a build a roof into the forest. I'm sure I would learn that; chip chop couple 'o trees, put some leaves on the framework, maybe even some clay if you feel like going for full pro outlook, and bam: it's a roof. I know, maybe we need something else too than a roof on top of us, like food and water. Well, well, that's the answer.... well... because you get the water from there.
Hey, someone already built me a home!
But how 'bout food? You can always larp a homeless person (or straight up be one) and dumpster dive for some. Hey, I've done it myself and I live with my parents, because why not. No, my parent's aren't that poor, although on the lower end compared to average Finns. Furthermore, throwing food away ain't cool; you'd think we'd respect that little chickens miserable life being raised solely for the purpose of being food, so that we would at least eat it instead throw into the dump. For nothing. Fortunately, as of today a lot of expiring food goes to charity, like churches (no, not the Catholic one), who share it away for free. They call them "bread lines" in Finnish. Then some people (politicians? I don't know, but somebody always wants poor people under a rug) in Helsinki want to get rid of them.
What about living under a bridge? Wouldn't have to even build my own roof. Homeless people already do that though. Poor humans. I hope we won't see a dystopia where rich people take tours on "poor people safari" and their "exotic ways of living". Wait, that already exists, it's called "travelling". Maybe I should write an episode about it for Black Mirror. Although the Internet is probably FULL of Black Mirror fan fiction, and TV full of traveling programs...
I like writing, but do you like reading? Maybe you do because you keep reading this. Funny to think someone is actually reading these exact words I'm putting on this paper right now. Well, not now when you are reading this, but... you get the point. Sorry, I'm wasting your precious time here by being straight up dumb, I admit. I want to be funny, sometimes I might be, sometimes I might not. Again, hard to judge, because I never see other people reading this. Sure, they can comment, but will they tell me if I suck? Not in Steemit at least, because everyone's ass here tastes like candy for some reason. I wonder what it is... Right, it's because they spent too much time in the candy shop.
Anyway, I like entertaining myself with some catastrophes and I really liked all kinds of post-apocalyptic stuff when I was younger, like movies. That shit hits the fan, everything goes wild and nature takes over. Indulging in these grim fantasies was even tastier than licking 50 Cent's ass. But for some reason the appeal for post-apocalypses has faded. I still enjoy programs like Black Mirror for its great dose of existential crisis (hey, new drug for you medicine-company fuckers) and mind fucking destinies. Probably the biggest "oh shit" factor is that they seem not that far into the future.
But I wonder what is this, this romanticism of wanting to feel the gritty, the gaunt and the hopelessness of endless struggle with only keeping the body we hold, alive. "Wanting" because I can't really "get into it" anymore for some reason, like I did when I found my fascination towards post-apocalypse. Like I just wanna feel hopelessly crushed. Not depressed, because depression is more of a lack of emotion. But just like pure sadness so that it hits on the floor like the lost of a loved one. One more thing that makes me think I'm a masochist...
I don't really hope this happening in real life (I think) but when I experience it in movies, and when something really hits me, it's SO good.
Kinda silly to fantasize about surviving the end of the world when I'm trying to think just how to start creating a living in this modern world in the first place...
I could drag this forever by digging into the implications of catastrophe fantasizing but I'll probably not because I would only end up talking about dog tails and why did people cut them to eat them between two peaces of bread. No, I don't actually know if this is true or not; just one of my stupid ideas, ok?
Anyway, my service work ain't so bad after all: I wrote two articles, this being one of them, today while doing the couple Sisyphian tasks on the side. If she (those who know, know who I'm talking about) wonders why I got nothing to do, I'll just point onto the table of how geometrically pleasingly the leaflets are arranged on it.