Trust.

I bought a coffee machine.

No more do I have to drive to Starbucks for their sub-par espresso. No more do I only have to be satisfied with only one cup of coffee through the day. Now I have all the power. I can make all the coffee I want. I can make reality whatever I want.

I’m thinking about writing a blog in praise of this coffee machine and all the pleasant joys it brings me. I’ll be like every other mom out there. Coffee is my drug. Here’s a photo of me with my mug and my pug. If you talk to me before I get my coffee, beware, I’m grumpy. You know, stuff white girls who love Starbucks say.

Coffee is my inspiration.

I was thinking today about my book that I haven’t written yet. I was thinking about the character’s that don’t actually exist yet and about what will define the theme of the book. I was thinking about trust. Trust is such an interesting element of life. Everyone views it a little differently I think.

Most people probably consider themselves trustworthy. Yet a lot of people have dealt with close friends or family destroying their trust. I’ve met many people in life who were so betrayed by others that it was really hard for them to trust new people.

I think we’ve all had people in our lives disappoint us. And even though we may not be able to admit it, we’ve all disappointed someone else in one way or another. This is why trust is such an interesting and difficult thing to grasp. It’s something that sounds so black and white: If someone is trustworthy, that means that they follow through with what they say. That you can “trust” them to get the job done, and to commit to their words and actions.

This is completely true. Trust is pretty black and white. The thing that isn’t black and white is the human element. People who are trustworthy with some things may not be trustworthy with others. You may think that you are entirely trustworthy, but you may not be able to easily trust in other people. Your bitterness for someone’s past actions may keep you from ever trusting in them again, no matter how small amount of trust they ask from you. Perhaps you don’t even trust in yourself to do the right thing based off of your own past actions.

People have a way of complicating things that we wish could be simple. I think it should be simple, and I try to apply that simplicity to my life on a daily basis.

If you’re in the business of self improvement, here’s how I think you should apply trust.

Be a trusting person.

I have talked to so many people through the years who talked about how “strong” they were. How they rely solely on themselves because other people let them down. How trust is for weak people and blah blah blah. That’s stupid. That’s nonsense. That’s silliness. It’s childish. It’s moronic. I am passionately against that mindset and I think it creates weak self pitying cry-babies.

Trust is for strong people.

A strong person should be the most trusting person you meet. They should be so trusting and believing that sometimes people think that they are a tad naive. Why? Because trust is a leaders strength. People who trust in others may sometimes get disappointed, but more often than not trust leads people to perform better, because someone believed that they could accomplish what they said they would do.

I like to think of myself as a trusting person. I consider the inner cynic that I have inside to be a partial weakness. Being cynical and cautious about people is not a good way to live life. It is much better to trust in someone and to be disappointed than to never trust at all.

Now I said trust to the point where people think you’re a tad naive. I’m not saying actually be naive. If someone you put trust in failed you, and they have no remorse for their actions, you should be a bit more cautious putting your trust in them again. I’m not saying be bitter or unforgiving towards them, but just learn from what has happened. The best example I have for this is this: If your girlfriend breaks your heart, maybe don’t give them your heart again. You can still be friends, or you know, “friendly” I guess.

I guess what I mean is don’t be self-destructive and say that you’re “trusting”.

Be a trustworthy person.

Being trustworthy is difficult and easy at the same time. No matter how much you try to be trustworthy in life, there is always someone that will consider you to be the opposite, and that’s okay. That’s life. People are going to think what they’re going to think about you. The important thing is for you to consistently become better, so that you can look back and see that you are a better person now than you have ever been.

In terms of trust, there’s only one thing that you should actively focus on doing ALL THE TIME.

Say what you mean.

Sugarcoating, white lies, actual lies, people pleasing, communication issues, these are all things that you need to avoid in life. Don’t avoid saying the truth because you’re afraid of how people are going to react. Don’t say something simply because you think that’s what someone else wants to hear.

I think that people who consider themselves good at “reading between the lines” are morons. A trusting person listens to what other people say, and believes them. You should be the type of person that is worth believing when you speak. That means you speak the truth. That means you try to make yourself as understandable as possible. That means communicating effectively and following through on your promises.

If you’re saying what you mean, you’re not making empty promises. If you say you’re going to do something that means you’re going to do it. You should treat your words with the weight that they should have. If your words are meaningless and wanton, then people are going to treat you as if your trust is meaningless and wanton. They won’t trust in you.

If you want to be trustworthy and trusting, that’s what you should do. You should listen to what other people are saying, and trust that they are not intentionally lying to you. Then you should act that way in turn. 

You’d be surprised how honest people are when you actually treat them that way.

People are worth trusting in. You’re worth trusting in. God is worth trusting in.

Coffee is worth trusting in.

Photo by McKenna Phillips on Unsplash

BOOK REVIEW. SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE.

BOOK REVIEW. SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE.

I just finished Slaughterhouse-five for the second time. What a rush. What a book. What a writer.

Slaughterhouse-five pulls you in and doesn’t let you go. The book is charming, full of wit and dark humor. The book is sad, full of war and death. So it goes.

This book is about Dresden getting bombed into a trillion little pieces. It’s about the cruelty of war. It’s about the mind of a broken man.

It’s about getting abducted by aliens and put into a zoo on Tralfamadore.

I’m going to say the same thing I say before every book review: I’m a blogger, not a literary critic. I read this book. I think it’s good. Here’s why:

After putting down Slaughterhouse 5 I immediately picked up Our Mutual Friend By Charles Dickens.  I was immediately bored to tears. It’s not Chuck’s fault; Chuck is a genius. It’s Vonnegut’s fault. Vonnegut is also a genius.

Vonnegut’s writing is a unique style called Postmodernism. The way I would describe it is that the story is disjointed and nonlinear. It jumps around different points of the story, and it is connected by the writing style. Even though something completely different may be happening in the next paragraph, it doesn’t feel out of place, because the paragraphs are connected by the way the author is writing. You never feel like you’re lost while reading it, and you never feel like the moments where you transition from different points in the story are jarring. Everything feels natural and entertaining.

The story still feels as though it progresses, even though it’s being told in this strange manner. It has a beginning, a middle, a climax, and an end. Even though you know exactly what’s going to happen throughout the story, you have a insatiable desire to keep reading. Vonnegut crafts his paragraphs in such a sharp rhythmic way that it is such a pleasure to read.

There are moments where you will be on the verge of tears, or laughing out loud. The story is grounded, yet at the same time it is fantastic and strange. It takes you from these surreal scenes of a boy who is hardly a man taken prisoner by the Germans in the war, to scenes with the same character being abducted by a spaceship decades later. Literally, these two story points happen paragraphs apart, and it flows perfectly.

I’m sure this book isn’t for everyone, though.

I gave one of my sister’s another book called Breakfast for Champions by Vonnegut once.

She didn’t like it.

I was furious.

Vonnegut isn’t for everyone. I guess everything isn’t for everyone. Some people don’t like chocolate. Some people don’t like summer. Some people don’t like the smell of the ocean.

So if you’re one of those crazy people, maybe don’t read Slaughterhouse-five.

In a more serious tone though, this book is violently sad and darkly humorous. If you can’t stand harsh language or serious tones (like war. Like World War 2)  then maybe it’s a better idea to stick with something a bit more light-hearted. Like The Princess Bride.

This book is immensely difficult for me to describe. So I apologize if this review has confused you at all. All I mean to say is that this is one of the most entertaining books I’ve ever read. It’s a little over two hundred pages long, and you could get a copy for under ten bucks.

Get this book. Read it. Let me know if I was right to say it’s one of the most entertaining books you’ll ever read.

Because it’s one of the most entertaining books you’ll ever read.

“If you’re ever in Cody. Wyoming, just ask for wild bob.”

The Melody Man.

Today I sat in a chair for a couple hours and listened to someone speak. I wasn’t listening to what they were saying. Instead I was imagining a story where people who couldn’t sleep would go to a huge auditorium. They would spend lots of money, if not their whole savings to go to this place. This place would only be open at night. It would have soft velvet cushions. There would be warm milk or hot chocolate in the cup holder.
The people would sit down and listen to a man on stage. The man’s job was to make them fall asleep. He was very good at it. His voice was melodic and it dripped with honey. Every word he said tickled the ears of the sleepy audience. He said nothing. He said it well. He said it with enthusiasm.
The people would do their best to pay attention. They wanted their money’s worth. They would tune their ears, and sit up in their chairs. They wanted to know what the melody man was saying. They wanted to glean from this charming speaker.
The more they paid attention, though, the more out focus the man became. The more they listened the harder it was for them to focus. The man was trying so hard now to get his point across, but his point was always out of his own grasp. The man didn’t mind that though. His voice was flowing silk; he liked the sound of it.
The audience drifted on the river of silk into a sweet sleep.
The insomniacs would snore.
The talking man would continue talking until every single person was asleep.
Then he would talk some more.
*
*
*
Needless to say I wasn’t paying attention to the speaker tonight.
He made me sleepy.

Smile.

Today I woke up with a face set in marble. I was a liquid man who melted into his clothes and glided into his car. The traffic was behind me as the windows blended the scenery into a blurry green. My eyes were glazed over with sleep, a stoic demeanor had gripped my limbs and face and mouth; I was a stone.

My car slowed and the scenery became a still life. I slid through the drive through of Starbucks, as I do some days when I don’t want to chisel my face into a smile. With a coffee in hand and liquid gold warming my cold insides, I began to thaw.

Sometimes I spend the entire day thawing out. Sometimes I wake up warm and cheerful, other days I don’t thaw at all.

Some days I’m a carbonite man.

I felt like a carbonite man today. In other words, I was grumpy. I was brooding. I didn’t want to talk. When Jeff talked to me about how nice the weather was today I just stared at him, “sure” I said.

I’m not sure if Jeff likes me anymore.

Coffee may be able to warm your frozen heart and cheer you up a bit, but it is a crutch. The solution to your grumpiness doesn’t come from your feelings. It comes from your actions. My grumpiness went away today when I chose to “turn my frown upside down’ and smiled.

Smiles are amazing. If I could give you some advice, something that is just for you, not for anyone else, I’d say you should smile more. Smiling isn’t really about other people; sure, when you smile you seem friendlier and I think people like others who smile more frequently. That’s not what it’s about, though. It’s not about presenting yourself as happy to others so that they can like you more. It’s about you being happy around others.

Being happy is way better than being a chunk of marble.

I’ve learned recently that I don’t smile for others. It’s selfish, I know. I smile for myself. I smile because when I smile it makes me feel happier inside. It makes me feel kinder. It makes me feel like the type of friend that I want to be for others.

It is strictly for myself.

The reason why it’s for myself is because others are going to interpret your smile however they want. They might not peg you as genuine. They might not like your dimples. Maybe your happiness makes them uncomfortable. Honestly, there’s a lot of reasons. People work in different ways, it’s totally okay.

My point here is that when you want to feel good you should smile. Smile because you’re presenting your best self to the world. Smile because you are genuine, not because you are trying to be something you’re not. Break that brooding habit for yourself.

It’s a discipline, just like everything else in life.

You have a beautiful smile.

Your frown is kinda gross though, like,  eww. 

Photo by Caju Gomes on Unsplash

Naps.

Today I went to Starbucks (as I always do in my free time) to write. It was so cold I had wished I had a sweater. I also ordered a cold drink in my thoughtlessness. I was colder than a skinny penguin.

Normally I feel good in cold environments. I think it gets the creative blood pumping. Not today. Today as I shivered in Starbucks the only thought on my mind was how fast I could get back home.

When I got home, however, another problem occurred. I was warm. I was relaxed. I was snuggled up in a blanket attempting to write a paragraph of my book. I would write a word and slump down in my seat. I’d write a sentence and lurch into a comfier position.

When I had a full paragraph I was practically tucked neatly into bed.

The odds were stacked against me, I drifted into sleep. I wonder if that’s why Stephen King did so much coke in the 80’s. He just couldn’t keep himself awake. I think that’s a bit of an extreme route to take though Steve. Just have a cup of coffee, take a nap, don’t do a line of coke on your notepad.

Perhaps that’s just me though. My time of productivity is crammed in between dinner and bedtime. There’s a solid couple hours where I’m inspired to write and I don’t care if it’s garbage or not. That’s discipline, right? You just write when it feels right and you don’t care whether or not it’s good.

Discipline.

I think the cat is a bad influence on me. It sleeps all day, and has spurts of radioactive energy at night. I’d like to say I’m not like that, but here I am at 11:30 typing like a madman.

If your tired it’s okay to take a nap honestly. It’s also just as important to finish your days strong. If you are setting out to accomplish a goal today, you should make sure it gets done. While it’s okay to give yourself time, and relax, it’s also a good thing to hold yourself accountable.

You will always be obligated to yourself. Sure, don’t destroy yourself with pressure, but also don’t destroy yourself with laziness. Self destructive tendencies come in a myriad of forms. Life is a balancing act after all, isn’t it?

Just like a cat. You have to balance your naps, and the moments where you run around screeching with fury.

Who knew cat’s would inspire me so much.

Their eyes are just so wise.

Life always comes back to discipline. If you want to accomplish your dreams, you have to perform the balancing act.

Set your thermostat, grab your notebook, drink some coffee, then take a nap.

 

Photo by freestocks.org on Unsplash

Lost in Walmart.

Late this evening I strolled into the mirrored daylight of a Super Walmart. Somewhere among the endless rows of stuff settled in a frozen corner of the place was the chicken I needed. While I walked to grab the chicken I reminisced; I thought back to when I was a kid running around K-Mart. K-Mart was a store filled with endless aisles of mystery to explore every time I went. This Super Walmart was easily eight times larger than our good old K-Mart back home. I wonder if kids explore it with the same wonder and curiosity that I explored that ancient decrepit K-Mart.

I wonder how many kids are lost in a Super Walmart right now. I still remember the day I got lost in my K-Mart; I had to walk up to a stranger and ask them where my mommy was. Now Walmart’s are so massive you never have to see anyone. A kid could walk for hours before he even finds a stranger to ask, “where is my mommy?”

Sometimes I think about what it would be like to experience life again through the eyes of a small child. I wonder if it’s really any different from when I was a kid. It’s probably not that different. Kids are kids. I’m sure a thousand years ago there was a market somewhere where a young mother was trading her sheepskin fleece for some food, and her little boy got lost.

Maybe he got distracted by all of the wonderful things that he could ask his mom for. Maybe she’d have a little money to buy him a top carved of wood, or some marbles, or some other thing kids back then played with. I mean they had toys, right?  Maybe they just banged rocks together for fun. Kids nowadays bang rocks together for fun too, I’ve seen it.

That little boy would have to find a stranger to help him find his mommy too. Thank God for all those strangers, reuniting little kids with their mommy’s every day.

Maybe kids in the next hundred years won’t have this problem. Maybe they won’t have to walk into a Walmart because all of their groceries are delivered to them by drones. Kids won’t ever need to be helped by strangers again. I mean, it’s probably safer that way anyways, right? That’s what life is: The pursuit of safety.

Those kids will bang rocks together too.

There’s something amazing about the lens that kids see the world through. It’s all a first experience for them. For a kid, Walmart isn’t just a store, it’s an adventure. Life is a game to them. They don’t have to deal with the responsibilities of adulthood. Or the emotions and heartbreaks of growing up.

They just have firsts and adventures.

I think that’s something we need to learn from kids. Don’t lose that little part of yourself that wants to go out and have an adventure. Go get lost. Go have a new experience. Go bang rocks together.

Keep that childlike part of you.

It’s in there somewhere.

 

Photo by Fabio Bracht on Unsplash

Boredom.

Yesterday at work I was confronted with a situation that I have not experienced for quite some time. I was staring at the ceiling, waiting patiently for the caffeine to kick in so I could stop suffering from droopy eyes in front of my customers, and I realized: I was bored. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I was horribly and fantastically bored. I tried to consider more about the interesting situation I had found myself in. Helpless, I looked for work to do, and found none. I tried to help my co-workers with their work, yet they were as bored and aimless as I was.

Resigned to my fate, I ate a few bread-sticks.

In life we don’t have very many opportunities to be bored any more. At least for me, I always have something that I’m able to focus on if I have some free time. If I even have an ounce of time where I’m not focused on something I could just pop open my phone and have a world of information and entertainment available to me.

As a culture, we are constantly filling up our schedules with stuff in order to avoid a dull moment. We make ourselves rush and hurry from work to play again and again in the subtle avoidance of the horror of having a moment alone with our own thoughts. I can attest that on my busiest days, where I didn’t bother to give myself some time to breath, my brain didn’t really wake up until I was getting ready to go to bed. In that brief moment of time where I rested my head on my pillow, my brain finally got some time to explode in thought.

I hate it when that happens. It keeps me from sleep.

I am an advocate of boredom.

Let’s talk about your brain for a second. Your brain is a greedy information consuming monster. It will ingest as much as you possibly have the desire to give it. It loves entertainment. That’s what it wants. If your heart craves blood, your brain craves information. In the modern world your brain can be entertained for years on end; till your bones become weak and your skin melts into a blubbery mass. As long as your brain consumes, it’s happy letting your teeth turn to dust in your mouth as you swallow bread-sticks whole.

Okay I feel like I got a bit dark there. What I mean is that every day it’s important to let yourself be, well, bored. Just because your brain is entertained, and you may be a “busy bee” doesn’t mean that you’re growing. It just means you’re busy. I can be busy taking tables and watching Marvel movies constantly till Endgame hits in my free time.

Doesn’t mean it’s good for me.

Boredom is a catalyst for deeper thought. Having time where you are able to just focus on thinking whatever your brain wants to think about is what boredom is for. Being able to entertain yourself by just thinking, or by focusing on something you’ve been brushing aside, that’s what boredom is for. Some of your greatest moments of inspiration will probably come from a moment where you are utterly, helplessly, fantastically bored.

I’m not saying that it’s good to be bored all the time. Or to be bored at your job. I think that if you’re bored all the time, you probably need to tighten up your schedule a bit. And if you are bored at your job all the time, maybe you need to reconsider why you’re at your job. Is it a means to an end? Or are you wasting your time doing something that isn’t beneficial to your life?

Make sure you get yourself good and bored sometimes. Have an old fashioned date with your brain. Sit back and relax, think about nothing, and see where it takes you.

Just put down your phone when I’m talking to you, gosh I’m not that boring of a storyteller, Phil you ingrate.

Photo by Tonny Tran on Unsplash

5 Ways to Perfectly Roast Duck.

I think I always start off my blog by talking about how tired and out of ideas I feel.

That’s uplifting.

Today I’m just tired. I’ve got great ideas, I just don’t have the willpower to follow through with them. So here I am in a tired blogging limbo.

I think it’s because when I write i’m using my emotions as a tool to channel what I want to say. So when I’m tired it becomes harder to say what I want to say, because all I really want to talk about is HOW TIRED I AM.

I had this great idea about blogging about some kind of recipe for food. Like I’d name the blog, “5 easy ways to roast that duck” and instead of talking about the actual recipe I’d just talk about nonsense the whole time until the blog was over.

It sounded like a great idea in my head okay. Maybe it’s not a great idea, but you’re never going to find out the amazing ways you could be roasting your duck anyways so suck on that, faithful reader that I’m SO THANKFUL FOR.

I still think it’s a great idea. Like maybe I’d pretend for a second we’d be getting into it. I’d say, “That reminds me about number 4 of the 5 amazing ways you can roast that duck. I’m super excited to show you my techniques for measuring the temperature of the roasted bird, but first let’s talk about my new merch!” You know, it’d be like that.

So let’s talk about my new merch.

I don’t have any new merch. If I had merch though I think it would be the best. It would say “The Daily Johnson” on it, and everyone would either think it’s a news journal or a shady website.


They’’d be right on both counts. I’m a shady news site.

Get the shadiest of news here. Next week I’m going to talk about how shady Oak trees are compared to their brethren, the furn. And while we’re comparing shade:

We might as well throw some.

Just kidding I have no shade to throw. If you’re my parent’s — which you probably are. Let’s be honest here, my parents are the only ones that have made it this far into this rambling blog about a duck roasting recipe that they’re never going to actually get to use because the recipe doesn’t actually exist. —  

Then you probably don’t know what throwing shade is. Throwing shade is like throwing pipe bomb. Accept instead of a pipe bomb, it’s a mean phrase.

Pipe bombs and stones may break my bones, but shade will never hurt me.

Yeah I’m going to bed.

Good luck roasting your duck. I’m sure another boring blog has fifty different ways you can cook chicken by stringing it to the roof of your house and letting it bake in the sun.

That’s not really what this blog is about.

This blog is about the deeper things in life.

Like plugging merch.

Staples.

*Book Update* The lead character’s name will be Dale. That is all.

Today’s been good. I’ve started a new book, I’ve gone to church, I made some chicken. Staples of a good day: books, church, chicken. Though, I’m starting to suspect I cooked the chicken improperly because my stomach is aching. I also fell asleep in church. . .

The book is great though!

Certain things you do in life might be staples for you. You might eat ice cream every Friday in celebration for the weekend. Maybe you have a show that you like to watch on Thursdays. Maybe on Tuesday’s you take psychedelics and dance in the moonlight. . .

Just don’t catch a cold.

Routine is great for finding your staples in life. My friends and I like to play games on Sunday night. We sit in circles, roll dice, talk, you know, game stuff. That’s a staple I enjoy. I also enjoy actual staples. They’re useful.

Wait am I talking about staples or rituals? Or both? I think game night is a ritual, and chicken is a staple. I’ve figured it out people. I’m also leaving all the above in for reference. So now we can all know the difference between staples and rituals. We’re all learning. Together.

Let’s talk about staples

I’m going to give you some staples for a good life. We’re back to lists ladies and gentlemen. It’s gonna be a fun one.

 

     1. Books.

Did you think I was finished talking about books? No. Because when all the other staples fail you, when your chicken is bad and your ice cream is melted, books will still be there for you.

I seriously cannot stress enough how important reading is. Reading makes you smarter. It lets you look at worlds unknown and learn things that you might not have ever learned before. It’s like magic. You read some words on paper in a pattern that someone else made up, and you learn things about people and about yourself. It’s just magic.

I especially think it’s good to read fiction. Non-fiction is good too; all those self help books and history books and autobiographies and such and such and such. . . Fiction, though, that’s where the world of reading really opens up. Fiction allows you to temporarily experience someone else’s life. It broadens your perspective on life.

Books are like friends. The more time you spend together, the more you become like them. If you read smart books, you become smarter. It’s just like that.

Plus, if you read dumb books you’ll still be smarter than the person who doesn’t read at all.

So that’s something.

Second staple: You think I’m going to say chicken, and I would say chicken. Chicken is great.

The last chicken I ate made me feel bad. I’m done with chicken. I’m going straight beef from now on. I don’t care how bad for me it is. Never again will I eat chicken. I know it’s my fault for either not cooking it properly or by not checking the date to see if it was expired, but it’s not my fault. It’s the chickens fault.

     

     2. Coffee

That’s right. Coffee can’t poison you. Nobody’s ever said to themselves, “I think i had some bad coffee today. It’s making me sick”. Nope. Coffee will never let you down that easy. It always gives you that little boost you need, and if you didn’t get it on the first cup you can easily have another! And another after that!

Creativity runs on coffee. In my mind, people who don’t drink caffeine and have normally functioning brains are amazing to me. Their either demi-gods or superhumans. I just know I’m not one of them.

Thus, coffee is a staple. It’s a wonderful addiction and I think everyone should be part of it, and enjoy it.

Most coffee drinkers have that opinion. I think we’re almost cult-like, actually.

The Cult of Coffee.

Good lists come in threes so here is the final staple for a good life.

     

     3. Music.

If coffee is my lifeblood, music is my heart. It pumps inspiration to my brain every day. There’s nothing like a good song to lift me up, and nothing like a sad song when I want to feel just the right kind of sad.

I’ll listen to anything, and I hope you do too. Music is like books in a way. They both make you think, and they both inspire you in different ways.

Sure, maybe you only listen to the same two bands from the nineties. You like what you like, and nothing can change that. I mean, that’s cool. You’re a different person after all.

I’ll think you’re a robot, though.

 

And you probably like Ska, too.
You monster.

Photo by Mel Baylon on Unsplash

FEAR. (and cats.)

Chicken is in the crockpot. I think my mind is also in the crockpot. It’s certainly not where it’s supposed to be.

I discovered myself staring at the wall earlier, completely unaware of what I was thinking about. Maybe I’m tired. Maybe the cat drugged me. Who knows.

I mean I’m not saying the cat’s evil, I’m just saying that all cats are inherently evil and self serving. If I leave it alone for two seconds it bites all my books up and gets hair all over my clothes. I think he knows too. He knows just how to torture me and push my buttons. So would I put it past him to do something even worse? Dastardly, even? No.

He is a cat, though, so I probably shouldn’t be paranoid.

I wonder if some people are paranoid about that kind of stuff. Like, “The cats are out to kill me” kinda thing. . . Probably. I should write a paper on them. Maybe be journalistic for once and try to interview someone who thinks cats are hidden mini assassins who are trying to take over the world.

That’s a great idea for a story.

Someday, just wait: CATSASSINS By JOHNSON DUNN.

I’ve gone off track, haven’t I?

No, I haven’t. There never was a track. This is the track. The crazy track. Where I talk about Catsassins and how my brain is melting into pudding.

Do you have anything you’re irrationally afraid of? I’ve always been afraid of roller-coasters. Nothing activates fight or flee in me quite like those wooden monsters. Ever since I was a kid they’ve always been rather traumatizing to me. I always knew they weren’t unsafe. I just don’t like the feeling.

Maybe I wouldn’t call it a fear. Maybe the logical side of me would call it a distaste. I don’t like roller-coasters, so why would I torture myself by going on one?  

Then again, I’ve had conversations with people about their irrational fears, and I wasn’t able to give them that grace. Some were afraid of insects, or fog, or the sea. . . I mean sure, there’s dangers in life. A spider might jump on you and bite your face off. The sea might drag you down to oblivion. Fog might envelop you where you can’t see and you jog neatly off a cliff. Those actually don’t sound very irrational do they?

Well they are.  

Caution would say that if you don’t know how to swim well, don’t go in the deep end. You absolutely should be afraid of treading water if you can’t swim well, but this is an easily fixable problem: learn how to swim.

The same with the other two. Sure, being afraid of spiders has it’s practical cases; you won’t frolic through spider infested fields asking all the black widows to crawl into your ears if you’re afraid of them. But again, if you’re not a moron you know that as a human, you can crush an insignificant insect with your shoe. Spiders can’t bite through your shoe.

I think the example I’m trying to give here is that fear has a purpose in life. It’s to tell you when things are ACTUALLY dangerous for you. That is it’s only purpose. Irrational fears are dumb. If you can rationalize a solution to your fear, then it’s probably not a great fear.

I still hate roller-coasters though. So I’m a hypocrite I guess. Sue me.  

Don’t live your life in a box because you’re afraid of what’s outside it.

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Catsassins will strike anywhere anyways.

They’re coming for you.

They call them “The Fluffy Death”.

You won’t be able to scream, you’ll be choking on a hairball.