GYSO Drawing Part 21 - Totally Normal

Published: 2019-12-08

Introduction

Tim:
Alright, folks, buckle up. It’s another sad post. True to his word, my co-hort Thor has indeed spun two sad posts worth of content out of his seemingly endless depression. But that’s okay. Because you trust him to deliver, don’t you? That’s right, you have actual human faith that he can deliver something worthy of this blog on a regular basis.

Now, back to my topic at hand, today is going to be about …

rolls dice

“heel”

Yes, that’s right, folks. Today is one of those days where good ol’ wacky Tim McGood’olwackyTimMcGood’olwackyTim arbitrarily chooses to randomly generate a word for this post. And, yes, it’s actually the first word that was generated for me. You do trust me on that, right?

You know, life isn’t easy like this. Having to figure out some esoteric way of topping whatever bullshit GYSO was up to last post. Because this one is going straight to rock bottom. Not only am I reusing an old idea in a deliberate attempt to fracture the quality of this GYSO post, I am also going to have to sprain myself to work with this.

Thor:
My existential crisis has come full circle and I’m back to being your normal bald mustached GYSO Representative for your regular scheduled programming.

My china xx eccentric brain state is being all over so I decided to spill my guts out

onto this piece of paper. Words twist in the air into your eyeballs expressing myself, my true self, for your viewing pleasure. I’m here looking for validation

and I don’t even know what to do when I get it. Just know that I feel free when doing this, expressing my true self

What went right?

Tim:

It was a cold, bittersweet, bumclusterfuck of a day for my anus. It didn’t know it yet, but today was the day that left the biggest anus-scar I had yet to see.

You see, when I was younger, I would regularly bleach my hair. Like, at the end of this phase my forehead had been torn down by chemicals so much that I had to wear a cool protective headband at all times, I started having chronic migraines, and occasionally my eyes would go blind in strong light.

Because sometimes the bleach would get in my eyes. Those moments of pain were the only moments that made me truly feel alive in my dull and pointless existence. You see, even though I was running a successful blog about my favorite past time activity; drawing. It had a readership so big it would be very arrogant of me to put it in writing, I was still feeling misery with every waking second I was alive. So this day I decided it was time for me to feel these things once again. I got my friend Alexa, who had answered “maybe” on the “Do you like me yes, no, maybe” form that I asked every girl in skool to fill out. She was the only one to sign her name anywhere on the paper before I started visiting the girls in question in their homes, threatening them with burning down their houses if they didn’t answer.

Now, just to be perfectly clear, this next part is totally true.

It was time to apply the bleach, so Alexa, like she had done many times before, cuffed me to the bathroom sink. As I was waiting for the leather whip to start lashing, all I could hear were how her buddy Buddy was running in and out of my room. Now, it’s harder than you think to hear these things under the influence of teenage sexual frustration. But as I heard someone mentioning burning my “shitty” drawings, a true anger started to form inside, among other things, my heel.

So anyway, I got out of the handcuffs with my raw muscular strength and I go get my brother. He’s a 6“11’ wolf with laser eyes and can run faster than running water. He was in an ongoing lawsuit with his employer for animal cruelty, so he sat home most days drinking a dozen or so Bud Lights. With his towering sense of smell, we were able to geolocate Alexa’s location by triangulating a strand of her hair. Also, because I knew her Apple ID, I used”find my iPhone", which sped things up quite a bit.

We located her to the local graffiti spot, where we found her, having posted all of my drawings on the wall of the street-art-wall, and having gathered all of the cool gangster kids in the area. They were discussing the merits of my art, and gave me very helpful critique in getting my neutral 3D rotated boxes to the next level.

…

So that’s a draft of my coming book. The main character is based on Thor and the love interest, spoiler alert, is Lu-Kthu, Birth-womb of the Old Ones in human form. Email me any critiques you might have, and send it to your publisher friends. If we get enough attention but no publisher, I’m willing to consider a Kickstarter campaign.

Does anyone else smell bleach?

Thor:
I’m human

and I crave validation in the ways that humans ~~need~~ desire

because approval is important even when I demand that it isn’t important

and

I can’t express it without supervision from those that I know already approve of me. Tell me its okay to be free

and that’s when I’ll tell you that I was free all along

How can I be myself when I don’t even know what myself is unless I’m told by someone else that I can be it? A sane person would have already figured it out, and instead I just jot down words like I’m not falling apart all the time

like I’m not broken inside

like I have my life together

like always

What went wrong?

Tim:
Ah yes, my Achilles’s heel; the What went wrong?-section. Come at me with the force of roughly 100 tendons, ~~sprain~~ ~~strain~~ spray me with your love of gravity. Not with tendon-fluids or whatever the fuck is hiding inside a human heel. But with Thor’s diatribe style of lovable and oh-so-cute nonsense love he has of seemingly everything and nothing at the same time. Spray me with the Italian love of sweet cuisine, the metaphorical heel of Italy. Or wait, it’s the heel of Europe, right? Ah, yes, what could be more flattering than being considered the second worst body part, the first I’ll leave up to your imagination.

I’ve always wondered why the Italians stand that shit. If I were to have regular correspondence with important world leaders, I would encourage them to not stand up to that crap. People need to take more responsibility for the shit they do, like who they trust, what software they use, the choices people make to go into liberal arts, and the fucking fact that there’s a section of our society that has “gardening” as their primary form of income. Among other things, of course. Not that I’m against people making money off of something as unapologetically simple, and unnecessary, and gardening. Like, holy shit, people, how long have human beings been civilized? And there’s still a group of people that are literally funding the actual lives of people to make choices regarding their green patch of soil, dirt, and wasted potential for effective housing they have in front of their house “in case the kids might want to play on it some day”

It’s a fucking pandemic. People don’t even think their lives through with as much as their ankle. They just float. Just fucking float through the expectations of modern society. This isn’t new either, humans have never changed. Have you read old philosophical texts from Ancient Greece? Plato was like the first guy to complain about how respectless and uncultured the younger generation were. How far have we come? It’s like history is on repeat. Just like European right-wing nationalist political history.

Thor:
Given the chance I have opened up to this strange GYSO paper. Given approval to speak my mind and the safety of not needing too speak my mind has shown me that I can do what I want, as long as its allowed

Because my life is controlled my others because I need it to be because I can’t decide for myself

Anyone who opens up to me, who pretends to understand even the slightest, who validates my existence as if I’m not some mutant goopy droopy monster automatically gets the love and desire that I so desperately want to give

And when they learn that I’m wrong

they will exploit that

because that’s what I’m afraid of. My worst fears come to pass every single time

so why even bother being myself when

myself is just broken? When myself just pushed people away even when

I just want validation?

What happens next?

Tim:
Let it be known that I can not only discuss heels as the human piece of boney trash that it is, but I can also bend words to effortlessly discuss and criticize Italy, the heel of Europe. Or is it the boot of Europe? Who the fuck cares, go outside and water your own fucking plants.

What theres left of them in December.

Thor:
With this information you obtain a little more power over me

and if I knew you it would be bad

but since you are over the internet

and I can’t see your face, and you can’t hurt me

I’m safe