Change

Change is inevitable.

Gloomy, I know, but accurate. I couldn't imagine a life without change, but at the same time there is nothing like adhering to a nicely polished routine. I understand that it is most common to avoid routine at all costs so life is one cataclysmic surprise after another, but let me share some small examples of how performing certain tasks within a routine makes them all the more enjoyable. For instance, I have used the word 'but' in 100% of all the sentences so far, delicious. It's like coming up with excuses for no other reason than to relish writing a comma followed by 'but...'

Showers. Few things prove greater fun and/or relaxation than covering yourself in hot, runny, transparent liquid. The large majority of people conform to either having a shower in the morning when they get up or at night after a hard day of eating chocolate and stroking couch cushions pretending that they are adoring cats and dogs. Speaking of animals, I have a pet snake. I always love the reaction I get when people find out for the first time. It's either shock and terror that I sleep under the same roof as a soul munching serpent that feeds on the trepidation of human beings, or they want to drape it over themselves like a fucking mink coat and take a picture. There are no cataclysmic surprises there, only a black and white metaphor waiting to be molested and swallowed up by a killer whale. You know, because, like, a killer whale is black and white? (Genius).

Sorry, I became a little side tracked with that last paragraph, back to the topic sentence. The reason why I brought up change is because there was recently a minor change at my workplace that caused me to clutch at my chest like a rabid madman experiencing a light heart murmur. I work at an unorthodox call centre that allows you to wear just about anything, but you have to call complete strangers and hope that they want to spend five dreary minutes of their life talking to you about their internet connection and phone line. Talk about a solid investment into a fun and rewarding career. 

On the exterior I prove to be a fairly adept individual, but on the inside the dialogue is more like "I'll stop! Please! Do you think I like doing this? I don't! I would much rather be at home opening packets of two minute noodles and snorting the flavouring!" That is why I have developed sufficient coping strategies to handle the amount of (justified) abuse I receive over the phone. My most infamous mechanism is to start singing a song as soon as I get rejected. The most common of these songs is 'I believe I can fly' (the version that Michael Jordan sings at the end of Space Jam). Not only is this a satisfying way of instantly acquiring everyone's disapproval, but it brings such uplifting memories of childhood that it cloaks the current situation with jubilation and solace. 

I apologise again, another detour has been taken without true guidance and script. Speaking of the word apologise, do you feel cheated when someone says 'I apologise' instead of 'I'm sorry'? I sure as hell do. When someone says I'm sorry they are submitting to you as a lesser being. They are mistaken and you are not. This fact may have lead to a mental or emotional battle, but you won. When someone says I apologise they are saying 'I'm kind of sorry, but I'm still smarter!' If it don't just make me sick right down to my wretched abdomen.

I'm officially filing this post under 'train wreck'. If you survived, I am honoured. If you didn't, I am revelling in all of the things that you can't enjoy because the above post sent you flying at terminal velocity off of a metaphoric cliff in an allegorical train carriage. These things consist of, but are not limited to: Rollups, coin magic, video games and the smell of hair just after being washed! ...As a race, we are really quite sad. I bet a lot of you would genuinely miss at least some of the things that I have just mentioned, and I would too, but I can't help feeling that I am walking the path of the insecure psychotic dairy consumer that spends his evenings bolstering up on sheep fodder. You know, instead of making a conscious effort to contribute something useful to modern society. I hope I'm not alone in thinking that.

Thanks for watching, leave a comment if you feel that I wasn't cynical enough in my disquisition on change. 

PS. Cynical Afro loves you. (In an emotionally broken son to new step dad kind of way).