The Best Day of my Life fragmentation – The desire copulation

Welcome to the best day of my life fragmentation, the blog I write when I want to shatter the myth of the lost art of perfection recognition. And by ‘lost’ I of course mean – never existed. And by ‘perfect’ I of course mean – an imagination. And by ‘shatter’ I of course mean – destroy any signs of shape, color, form, and other forms of boundaries.

Today was the best day of my life – and I will tell you why? Because it wasn’t the best day of my life, at least as would be measured on any normal chart of acceptance or display.

I feel like using words today. Different words, unique words, words that don’t normally go together like say for example ‘goat javelin’.

Wait, goat javelin would be an awesome sport, way better than regular javelin. Unless this sport consisted of throwing javelins at goats. Or involved throwing goats like they were javelins. Or involved goats in anyway. Or throwing things. At least if those things didn’t involve a ball, a team, teamwork, rules, good sportsmanship, athletic ability and an absence of goats. 

Ok, so I had a weird day. I gave into some fears and anxiety, at least in small bursts. And in the frustration of allowing myself this folly of failure, I find myself emerging back into the more mentally positive ether of the late evening with a new desire for individuality, expression and distinctiveness. Hence tonight’s blog. Involved evolution of involuntary personification, if you will.

And now for something more inspirational, or profound, or at least involving some semblance of a coherent point:

My life is not perfect – I mean it can’t be because above, with the mere act of statement, I proved without a shadow of a doubt that perfection is a mere figment of the imagination. My life is far from fulfilling even the most illuminated possibility of this imagined utopia. But since starting this project I have been forced, nay privileged, to end the day not with beating myself up, but rather with a task to find the nuggets of good hidden within the KFC mixed bucket of chicken variety. Today I find a delicious nugget deeper within the bucket than I hoped, but found it I did, and this blog is the dipping of this nugget into the delicious dipping sauce. As long as no part of this nugget was made of goat, then I am headed for bed a happy. Man.

And yeah man, I meant it, that full stop/ period there was far from a fucking accident, man. I am a happy. Why would I ever want to be a ‘man’? Shudder, the horror, don’t they like have responsibilities and shit?  I don’t want any part of responsibilities; I don’t even want to look at a crude mock up of them on a normal chart of acceptance or display! Man.

The Best Day Of my Life Fulfillment – Over my shoulder

This shall be a short blog this evening. Short in length, but not in spirit. For the spirit is long, as are the teeth of the day, for it has been a long day, and therefore I must keep this blog short, for otherwise my sleep will be short, which will extend the length of time I spend tomorrow being tired, which makes me less likely to find the energy for a long blog tomorrow, which I may well be inspired to write, as I already know it shall be the best day of my lif

You know?

It’s kind of weird actually, that’s the first time that I have looked forward since I started this little tour de project here. I look upon my day as the best of my life, which means it was better than yesterday, which itself was better than the day before. But when looking forward the equation is, wait I wrote this as a tweet once many suns ago (why does the moon always get credit in length of time metaphors! Needy bastard).

It turns out that if you live everyday like it was is the best of your life, then in a couple of years today really is going to seem like it sucked.

That was the tweet. I think. Although I am not sure I ever posted it. I do that a lot, I write tweets into my phone, and then judge myself over how I will be judged by them, and then don’t end up tweeting them. That’s kind of stupid. Who even reads my tweets? Few, that’s who, and that rhymes which means it’s poetry, and poetry is sad.

Ok, screw it – I am going into my phone and finding a lost tweet, I haven’t done that in ages, what could possibly go wrong?

This is from July 24 2012

‘If I’d been the one to invent cornflakes I’d be really old right now’.

Why on earth did I deny the world that genius?

I’ll tell you why, because it didn’t need to be said until it was the best day of my life, which is today.

Until tomorrow, which will be a short day if I have a long sleep, which I will decide upon shortly when I take the long walk to my bed, before a short think over what time I should set me alarm for, before my typical long time waiting to fall asleep, which will cause me lengthy efforts in anxiety and frustration, but also short breaths of fire, which I only let out late at night when no one is around, because I don’t like too many people to know I am part dragon, or else they ask me questions about Game of Thrones, which is a lengthy series of books, and require a long wait for the next season.

Oh fuck, I am on page two of this word document, which means this blog is way longer than I intended. Well I refuse to be mad at myself; for sometimes giving a little length is worth it for discoveries of genius cornflake smarts.

Plus I got through a whole blog regularly using the word ‘length’ without a single dick joke! Yay for me.

The Best Day of My life Dedication – yep still

Today was the best day of my life. That doesn’t mean my day was perfect. Oh no siree. Like for example at one point today my alarm went off on my phone, which is the alarm I use to wake me up in the morning, and at the time this alarm went off I was presently in the position I normally find myself in when I am asleep, or one of the positions if I am honest, I have twelve very distinct sleeping positions, which you can study in more detail by reading one the many essays I have written on the subject of sleep positioning for medical journals around the world, both online and off, and sometimes even BOTH!

Although if you want a summation of my position on sleep positioning it can be neatly summarized by summarizing this sentence – ‘sleep position sucks’. Which is a very hard sentence to summarize, because by definition a summary should be shorter than the thing it was summarizing, and in this example the thing that needs to be summarized is only three words, and frankly all three words are very key to the argument, and make up deeply thought provoking reasoning behind the conclusion as discussed in the theory. But shorten it we must, I guess, because that’s the way I promised that a summation of my position could best be attained.

Ok, let’s try – sleep sucks.

Well, ok, that’s a summation, it falls within the criteria of that definition – but frankly I do not concur with this conclusion, so I will try again.

Here we go – sleep position.

Well that tells us fuck all. One more try.

Position sucks.

Ok, fine, I will admit it. I broke of more than I could chew, and frankly I wouldn’t want to chew it because even though I very much enjoy the flavor of ‘failure to make my point’, I find the texture to be a tad stringy for my taste. Wait, that last line was an idiom failure if I have ever smelled one.

So my phone alarm was going off.

Oh wait, I remember a summation of my position on sleep positions that I remembered being satisfied with – I think limiting and/or extending your sleep positions to exactly twelve is both stupid and difficult.

That’s a bit long now that I think about it. I might try to summarize it.

Ok, here goes – sleep position.

Fuck! We’re back there again.

So my phone alarm goes off, and you know what? I wasn’t happy about it, because at that time I was asleep, and I wasn’t about to wake up if my alarm had not gone off, which is a sure sign to me that I did not want to be awake, as was the cursing, hitting my phone, and saying ‘shut the fuck up phone, I am not ready to get up okay, I am not FUCKING READY! BE QUIET. SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!’

Now, I typically count my day as starting, not at midnight when the calendar says I should, but when I wake up for the day, like we all did till those Ancient Aztec Pharaohs like Socrates and Freud invented the calendar and the moon to fuck with us. So at this time, during which I was screaming blue murder, red murder, and even burgundy murder at my phone, this time had by this time taken up pretty much my entire day at this time. So at one point my day was almost a hundred percent negative, by this time when looking at time based on a time system.

Then lots went on. Lots of it really shitty. It’s been a hard day to be Australian, and live in Sydney. This blog is not to discuss things like the awful events still unfolding as I write. I wish and hope for the best for everyone involved.

This blog is to focus on the good. The day started awful, as always, for me. Never once have I been happy to wake up. Then some good stuff happened today too. I conversed with some people I care about. I had some laughs. I barely ate all day, other than a few healthy snacks, which I choose to believe is the right thing for my health. So yeah, I choose to still say it was the best day of my life, and leave it at that.

(Ps I also think I saw a ghost in my apartment. I thought the same thing last night. I think if it happens a third time I will write about it – or at least give a very clear summation of the experience).

The Best Day of My Life Opportunity – that’s the spirit

When I first conceived of this new direction for my blog about a month or so ago, although I already must confess that it wasn’t first thought of a month or so ago, it was thought of over a couple of years, but yet frequently abandoned, because I thought it would be too much work, and too hard to maintain at the awe inspiring levels I always set as my minimum allowed.

But ok, so that’s just the point. When I decided a month or so ago to say ‘fuck it, just fucking write everyday, cause you love to do so, and don’t care about results, or any…

Ok, so – the point is there was only one rule or policy for doing this – that I didn’t plan shit in advance, but rather wrote free form from the place where my imagination meets my memories from the day, only with a spirit of remembering the day as if it was the best day of my life, and more than that, to spend the day as if it is the best of my life, and let the writing of this therefore take care of itself, after you know, chucking all that shit in a blender and then adding maple syrup for sweetness, only to discover drinks made up of ideas are occasionally not as good as pancakes.  

Wait, Ok, but that’s all fine, but I keep failing, I keep pre-planning, or at least thinking about what I am going to write in some way. To be honest I even pre-thought about writing a blog tonight about how I don’t want to pre-think stuff anymore. Then I allowed myself to do it again anyway, and I haven’t every night, to be clear, even some…

Fuck it – today is the best day of my fucking life, why am I trying to quantify or qualify, or explain, or any of that shit, it’s against everything this blog is about.

Ok, so time for the real blog, just whatever comes into my head, but while still keeping in mind the thoughts about direction I only partially summarized above, before abandoning for being against the very thing they are trying to quantify.

Rules man, rules suck. I mean they do have their place in a civilized society, like if there were no rules anywhere, it would be damn hard to find a place that sold excellent donuts, because they’d probably all be stolen, and full of razor blades, because if someone was stealing my donuts everyday you better believe they’d have razor blades in them. Or maybe not even razor blades, cause you can see those too easily in a donut, all metallic and sharp and stuff, and frankly I think those properties would fly directly in the face of what I was attempting to achieve as a master donut craftsman, have I promoted myself a couple of times, in terms of my donut making title, or qualifications, so far in this paragraph? I am not sure, but frankly I deserve a promotion. I am a master crafter donut staffer, which actually sounds like a lesser position, because of the whole ‘staffer’ element, where as I assume I’d be the boss – but you know why I think I’d be the boss? Because I sure as hell would not bake, or fry, or microwave no donuts that looked so metallic and sharp that you could hide a razor blade inside of one and not have it easy to notice. So if people were stealing my donuts, I’d probably have to stick it to them with some form of poison, or miniature self-shooting pistol, or possibly even just make a batch or two of ones that don’t taste good, then give them to the crooks, who wouldn’t actually be crooks in this scenario, because of the lack of rules in this society, and after these miscreants had stolen a couple of bad batches in a row they’d stop stealing, and I could go back to selling my delicious creations, at high and yet reasonable prices and we’d once again have peace on earth.

But we don’t currently have peace on earth, and maybe, just maybe it’s because I haven’t encountered just the right conditions necessary to inspire me to take up baking.

Ok, so the point is – I have no idea where all that last section came from, or what, if any, point I meant to make is it there.

But fuck that.

I think we have all learned something here today – rules are good only when they are good. And I don’t think anyone has ever thought of that before, let alone said it.

The point is, today was the best day of my life. I did a shit ton of acting and filming, and LOVED it, I saw a beautiful sunset, and I ate some delicious cake. I’m sure at least one of those three things will have an impact on my life at a future date, even if the connection is tenuous at best. If it does though, I will be as surprised as you are, because I aint pre-planning shit anymore.

Wait I think that last sentiment was actually the point I was trying to make all along. 

Ok, so does that mean I am opening a donut shop or not?

The Best Day of My life proposition – The second chance salivation

  

Hello everybody, friends, well-wishers, wishes of wellness from lucky ponds where you throw money in them for wishes, what the hell are those called again? Wishing wells? And even people who only wish moderation. Actually ‘well’ isn’t that fucking great is it? I have never had to call up a friend to excitingly scream…

‘You’ll never believe it, I’m WELL’

And even if I ever did make that call one day I think the conversation would probably end up going along the lines of this:

‘You’ll never believe it, I’m WELL’

‘You’re well? What do you mean, are you ok? You sound upset?’

‘No I’m excited, because I am well!’

‘So are you excited or are you well?’

‘Both, I’m excited because I am well’

‘But well and excited are very, very different states of being. One is all thrilling, electrifying and high energy, and other one is relatively neutral, almost as if nothing particularly good is happing in your life or emotional state, and yet nothing particularly bad is happening either. You’re feeling fine, no sickness, injuries or ailments to worry about, and yet no particular rush of adrenalin or serotonin is present in your neurovascular system, you are reasonable, in satisfactory health and reasonable mental conditioning, and in no particular mood to neither celebrate nor seek commiseration.  So which is it, are you excited or are you well?’

‘Why the fuck do you always have to ruin shit with literal interpretations of shit. Why can’t I just call you up and be happy, you fucking asshole, you’re supposed to be my friend dickhead.’

‘See now you’re demonstrating signs of hostility and yet referring to being happy, seriously buddy if you want to call me up and talk about moods, can you at least figure out which mood you want to talk about first?’

And yet we still wish people well. For shame people, and I am including myself within that definition, of things called ‘people’.

So let’s go with, hello happy-wishers! Awww, thanks for that wish, I appreciate it. This is The Best Day of My Life Proposition, the blog where I look over the day that was, for me mostly, and decide to appreciate it as if it were comfortably the best day of my life, and even if up until this moment it may not have seemed like the best day of my life, the mere act of positive reflection immediately escalates it to that very position, leaving me, and hopefully some of you, feeling delighted, optimistic, and yes even happy – the very emotion you just wished for me. Man, this blog is a self-fulfilling, and group-fulfilling prophecy of epically awesome proportions.

And yes, today was the best day of my life. For today I ate left overs for not one, nor even two, but two plus some snacking meals today, and it was awesome. I LOVE leftovers. Although to be honest I normally get most of the pleasure from them while putting them in the fridge thinking ‘that saves making or attaining food at least once tomorrow’ a sentence which can bring me all sorts of comfort and even joy. And yet then I often proceed, as soon as the very next day, to think to myself ‘I’m hungry, what should I eat… meh, I guess I’ll just have leftovers’.

Seriously… ‘meh’.

Do I somehow forget the comfort and even joy that I predicted just the evening before when storing said leftovers? Yeah I think I do. Well not today motherfuckers, I reveled in leftovers, I gorged myself with them, I bathed in them, I devoured them with all the senses I could remember at the time, at least three I think, I salivated over them, which is convenient because this very saliva helped distribute the flavor around my mouth, and aided in lubricating my throat canal to allow the well chewed food morsels a safe passage to their after life, I chewed them, I teethed them, I tongued them, I luxuriated in them, and yes, uh huh, I even heated em up before eating them.

So yeah, it was a good fucking day, suck on that ‘meh’.

The Best Day of My Life Principal – Pop Quiz

 Pop quiz: if you look up the definition of 'look up the definition of' in the dictionary what happens next?

A. The definition is hard to find because of an alphabetizing quirk.

B. All time and space collapses in on itself.

C. A vent opens in the ceiling and a balloon slowly floats out with 'well done' printed on it.

D. A man creeps out of the nearest closet in a dark suit and intones 'we've been waiting for you'.

E. An all out war breaks out between those who support quintessential freedoms and those who don't support them because they can't spell 'quintessential'.

F. Your friend turns to you and says 'pff, you still look things up in the dictionary? What a loser'.

G. All of the above because today was the best day of my life!

Obviously the answer is E! No wait, wait G! Because it's that time again, the time for me to talk about how today was the best day of my life.

And oh yes, it t'was a doozey, I watched some cricket, did some acting, ate some yummy food, skipped exercise for a whole day for the first times in weeks, and I looked something up in the dictionary like the non-conformist hard core badass motherfucker I am. I mean I can't remember what I looked up but for some reason my left leg just circumnavigated the moon without me, so what ever it was it must have been pretty damn sweet.