What Do Ya Do

by trickywicket


Oh my gosh what a loaded question.

Well, I don’t really work the traditional nine-to-five. Like, how can I put it? I don’t have health insurance. Or, like, pay taxes ha ha. Don’t tell the IRS!

Right, here. Let me do that for you. I don’t use my real name on Facebook.

Oh yeah? I don’t really go to that part of town that much. I don’t know why.

Ah, no! Not yet. I don’t eat factory-farmed eggs. Or gluten! When I’m being good, at least.

Well, I definitely don’t eat fast food. Except for Taco Bell, sometimes? And Five Guys. And In & Out Burger, obviously, if I’m in California.

Definitely, but I neeeever go into the EDM tent. Yeah, I’ve never really gotten the whole dubstep thing? Wub wub wub ha ha.

Huh, yeah. I don’t buy CD’s anymore.

I heard that song on the radio, I think! When I was changing channels. Yeah, I didn’t listen to it.

I’ve heard people talking about that show! Apparently it’s super good! I don’t have cable, though. Just not a big sports person. News the same thing.

Right the thing is I don’t totally subscribe to the whole gender biiiiinary? I wouldn’t use that word, no.

Okay well it’s not really a band. Or a political collective. And we’re not just about this one initiative either. I haven’t really been to a meeting in a while. That’s not fair. They aren’t really meetings. No, not practices.

Ha yes. I totally stopped wearing a watch!

The thing is I never really got the whole zombie thing. Or the vampire thing. Or the superheroes—my God the superhero thing just left me cold, because I didn’t really grow up reading comic books.

I don’t know if I really feel comfortable being “from” anywhere. I’ve moved so many times…

And this whole paralysis, this retreat, of feeling unable to be “for” or “about” anything in particular? Maybe it comes from a sheer exhaustion of being bombarded with cultural offerings that feel like retreads, advertisements in disguise, or just lazy schlock? Or maybe it’s feeling like any step I take in life serves to fulfill the familiar choreography of the insanely developed, perpetual, and safe-guarded shell-game of a capitalist endeavor, no matter whether I’m currently playing the role of the consumer or the crusader? So maybe I’m in a slow, dull death spiral of turning off to the world at large and end up spending my hours walking alone among trees and snakes and tall grasses–because that’s pretty unquestionably great stuff right there–and otherwise just generally just keep to myself because why bother with all the disappointment anyway?

Oh no. I totally saw True Detective. It was soooo good.