This Post Sucks

This post will not be very good, that I can pretty much guarantee.  In fact, it is not mean to be good.  And I know that may sound ridiculous.  Why write something if you don’t want to make it good?  And when I say, “you” I mean “I”.  To repeat: why should I write something if I don’t want it to be good?  There is an answer for that.

This is the answer: it is not going to be good, because it is not everything I write will be good. In fact, most of what I write will be not good.  In fact, most of what I write will suck.

This is an intimidating idea.  But, you know what?  It’s an important one.

Here’s what I was thinking: my brother is getting married soon.  Very soon.  Like, less-than-a-week soon.  I am the best man and it is one of my obligations to deliver the toast.  I plan on buttering it and serving it with jam.  Get it?  Because toast has two meanings (it has more than two meanings, I know).  Anyway.  That joke was not funny.  It sort of sucked.  But I needed to write it.  Needed?  Wanted?  Yeah, okay, wanted, but only for lack of a better word.  Anyway.  I’ve said anyway twice now.

Moving on: it is my job to write a toast for my brother’s wedding.  It has proven difficult so far.  I’ve written three drafts and it is not very good.  I want it to be so many things, but “so many things” is really too many things.  I think I need to just focus on one emotion.  Love, or whatever.  But that’s not the point.

The point is this: moving sucks.

That’s still not really the point, but its part of the point.  Recently, I moved in with my girlfriend.  That part does not suck.  In fact, that part is radical.  Tubular, in fact.  Downright boss.  Anyway.  The part that does suck is how much moving can uproot your whole life…literally, I guess, and figuratively.  So see before the move and the wedding and whatnot I was writing a lot.  And then I stopped.  And now writing has become very intimidating.  And scary.  Because I’m afraid that I suck.

So this point is, for lack of better words, is to embrace the suck.  To accept the suck.  Be one with the suck and move on.  That all sounds kind of dirty.  I am talking about figuratively sucking.  Not literal sucking.  Unless you’re an anthropomorphic vacuum cleaner.  In which case, you literally suck.  Also, I hope your name is Herbert Hoover.  Because what else would your name be?

Anyway, that’s the point of this short post: embrace the suck.  Here I go.


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