Your life is an exercise in balance. How close to rock-bottom can you hover without ever actually getting there? This is a question you strive to answer every day as you make your way clumsily through life. It’s a question that underlines all the decisions you make, both big and small, from who to date to how to manage your meager finances to what poisonous substances to consume. It’s what keeps you up at night and what feeds your generalized anxiety disorder as well as your myriad, troubling addictions. This question is really the ultimate goal of your whole life.

Lucky for you, Fraudulent Living is here to show you the way. The true way. The way of the neurotic, self-obsessed, success-avoiding loser. It’s time to quit pussyfooting around and do this for real.

That’s right, “pussyfooting.”

Welcome to Fraudulent Living.

Monday, January 5, 2009

Public crying


I'd like this to be an ongoing topic where we share our stories of where, how and why we've cried in public.

I'll start with one good suggestion: the subway.

Yeah, this is one of the best public places to cry, because everyone near you is watching your public breakdown, which makes you feel like even more of a loser than whatever is causing you to cry. Sometimes the embarassment can help override the sadness you're experiencing, but usually it will just add to it. Now you're crying both because your life is horrible generally, AND specifically at this moment it's hyper-horrible as you are a public spectacle of fraudulence and loserdom. 

Add to this the fact that you have Keane or some other british-accented gloom pop in your iPod and that you're curled up on two seats in a fetal position and you're essentially now "that person". Every subway train has "that person". Now it's you. Congrats. You finally did something.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

"An old fairytale told me
The simple heart will be prized again
A toad will be our king
And ugly ogres our heroes." *sob*