I Gotta Be Weird, Baby
I love being weird. I’ve always been weird. While I was growing up, I wasn’t allowed to be weird. Nobody would punish me for being weird, but my weirdness wasn’t encouraged and nobody got me.
Turns out, I’m just a weirdo. So if I want to be myself, I have to be weird.
When I think back to my childhood, it makes my soul cringe. My creative, happy soul wants to crawl back into its hole and hibernate like it has been for the past 20 years.
Soulful metaphors aside, I’ve been figuring out who I am and what helps me connect with that person. Connecting with the real me is essential to writing.
The person that kept me down is shitty. Thinking about them makes me feel shitty. I won’t let them make me shitty they way they are, because I’m not them. I’m not doomed to the same shitty life and the same shitty mindset as them because I’m me and I do what I do, not what that shitty person does.
What do I do?
I’m an author. I write really good shit. Yeah, I said it. Impostor what?
Onto the list.
Things that help me write
- Strutting around the house to funky music.
- Hobo Johnson — This man put me onto poetry.
- Supportive shoes.
- High-THC dabs.
- Singing out of tune.
- Kris Kristofferson and Townes Van Zandt.
- Red Bull.
- Making sexual noises at really inappropriate times.
- Making other stupid noises. Any one will do. Weird voices, stupid accents, Hank Hill impressions (do I look like I know what a jpeg is?!)
- I really can’t describe this noise better than this video. I must make this noise at least once before I can start writing.
- Daft Punk.
- Writing poetry with no limits, expectations, or rules.
- Wiggling my arms in different ways. While listening to Daft Punk.
- Screaming into a pillow.
- Dancing in ways that nobody should ever see or repeat. Ever.
- Making funny faces while I desk-drum.
- Calling somebody and bullshitting for 45 minutes.
- Leaving my house on a whim with my own two legs. Because I have two working legs and that’s a seriously underrated thing.
- Trying to rhyme random words and sentences so they fly like wings.
- Even things on different lines at different times to make it sing.
- Like a song or a rap I try to layer the lines and rhyme and make it flow.
- Window-shopping for houses I can’t afford yet (yet.)
- Listening to the same song on repeat for an hour.
- Going on really long, absolutely unnecessary, extremely vulgar rants about everyday things that morph into hyperbole-driven creative monstrosities that really push the limits of reality. (short example below.)