Wiseass

A word of advice: never,

but never,

doubt the supreme wisdom of my ass.

Having established that the wisdom of my ass is infallible, that in fact you should just assume at every given point that I know what I'm talking about (except for, you know, the times I have no idea and am bullshitting like my life depends on it), I'm going to do something kind of questionable in regards to general wisdom.

So someone asked my advice a few days ago. I know what you're going to say; the only advice I should offer to people asking me for advice is "don't ask me for advice". But this person did, and it was out of the blue, and at the time I didn't respond in the way I ought to have. There were multiple reasons for this: for one, I was caught completely by surprise; for another, at the time I was multitasking; for a third, I was on my way out the door, and didn't have the time to say much except, "man, I'm uh, I'm sorry to...uh, hear that, GOTTA GO NOW BYE TALK LATER."

Those of you familiar with my habits as of late will recognize these words as being essentially the only active kind of communication you've had with me.

This is because I've been very busy. You see, there was a time I had nothing but time on my hands. This is what is known as a terribly unhealthy state of mind. When I finally realized this, it had reached the point where I spent just about every waking minute online, chatting with people. I didn't go out. I didn't do things. I didn't do the things I needed to do, I didn't do the things I wanted to do, I didn't talk to the people in my real life, the one I was at the time not living. Because I was online. Chatting.

I don't do that anymore.

...and that's my advice, my dear friends. I am making this a public blog post instead of a private response, because hey, I didn't know this person had this problem, so identical to my own. Maybe it sounds familiar to more than just one of you.

That is the entirety of my advice at current. That is why this person came to me, because somewhere in their head, they knew this was what I was going to say.

If you are spending more time living a fake life and being miserable than you are spending living your real life and possibly being happy, there really is only one solution. Turn it off. Close it down. Get up out of your chair. Go outside. Jump in a puddle, talk to a random stranger, go to the library, wander around your town, find a lake and swim in it, turn a corner, find an adventure, find any adventure. Who knows, maybe you'll meet someone you like, someone who actually lives near you for a change. Maybe you'll even get laid. That'll be better than writing about getting laid, won't it?

...in case you were wondering, the answer to that question is, "Yes, it will."

I know. Because I have been there, I have been there and I have been worse than there, and that was what I eventually did. Maybe you'll go back to it someday, when it stops being something that makes you feel all hollow and dark on the inside. It has its high points, as a hobby.  Hell, I might even go back to the fake life someday, when the real one slows down and goes temporarily boring.

I very highly doubt it, though, on both points.

Oh, ,and by the way; don't ask me for advice, kid. My ass, while wise, is also full of shit.

THIS IS

COINCIDENTALLY,

MY HUNDREDTH POST TO THIS BLOG.