In the light breezes in beds of summer I lay reading, keeping my eyes fixed on letters and words. Skipping back and re-reading, my mild dyslexia and adhd becoming less of an excuse and more of a reason. I only feel the wind form the spinning fan above me on the parts of my body that are covered in the longer hairs – those that seem to be the first to shake in the wind. I try and think and write and ignore and imagine all wrapped into one complicated blanket of self-worth and identity. I flash ahead 10 years and try to imagine who I am, it’s fuzzy and try for five and I still can only make out my awkward haircuts and thick glasses with a bend forward hunch and gimped ankle. The only time I see myself in my imagination I’m standing awkwardly in different hallways either lost or strangely misplaced, like a dream that has yet to happen. I’m never doing anything. My occupation is a faint outline of what I’m doing right now – which isn’t much other than pretending that I’m not a waiter.

So I’m trying to write again right? Would I consider what I do at work, writing nearly meaningless blogs that 10 people actually take the time to read writing? I’m not sure I would. It’s more like the internet or blog or web version of verbal vomiting. I just cram a bunch of shit people tell me or that I read about the product or that I make up while eating it or just plain pull it out of my ass and move some words around, adding verbosity and simplicity like a kid swinging a stick he/she found in a park. And yes, there are times I let loose and someone gets a stick tossed at their backside, luckily they just scowl and I furrow my brow and walk away.

But then again, maybe it’s good I started doing this work. It’s forcing me to put words to ‘print’ and even having a real audience helps focus my writing a ton. I do have to admit that the ‘voice’ I’ve created for Southport is leeching into my normal writing and I’ve been lucky enough to catch myself doing so (see smile faces & exclamation points) – on the opposite, I think my voice is slowly creeping into the “Southport” voice. As an example, I put up a sign in the store with my smarmy attitude that said to buy a group of prodcuts for people “who are nice enough to feed you.”

So, again am I writing? Well all of this other blogging is leading to the wiener blog is leading to this blog which may or may not lead to me eventually working on something. Only time will tell I guess, I’m going to go ahead and it here by saying that if you try and push it out, you’ll only end up wearing it.

1 Comment
  1. Megan says:

    Jacob! I'm enjoying your blog so far. Some bits are a bit gross (BM's? Really?) and some parts a bit unclear in a way that could be artistic but isn't quite; however, I think a lot of it is humourous and has potential. And you remind me of David Sedaris!

    Well those are my unsolicited (and hopefully not too rude!) comments. I hope you're having a wonderful day and keep up with the writing. It is impressive and enjoyable to read…

    in peace, megan xx

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A Racecar Sounds Like a Cat

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May 31st, 2010