Bad Advice

Work in front of a computer the rest of your life. Stare at a mobile device as much as you can. Spend all your time staring at light that glares back at you, and feel guilty while you do it. Be indebted to everyone. Absorb pain but never express it. Let love pass by like it’s on a riverboat you can never board. Speaking of riverboats: don’t take an adventure. Don’t risk anything. Don’t swim. Be safe. Stay on the shore. Walk away, and better yet walk back inside. Breathe recirculated air as much as you can. Close the curtains. Keep the door locked. Be afraid of getting hit, or hurt, or lost. Stay close and comfortable to what you know. Only know what you know. Don’t overreach. Don’t write good, sing loud, kiss deeply, drink too much, or punch hard. Spend as little as possible, and save as much as you can, and only for yourself. Never splurge. Never give away your heart to anyone; instead, guard it like a fortress and build as many walls around it as you can. Plan for the future like it will never come, regret the past like religion, and ignore the present until it fades away. Refuse to believe in myth or stories, and don’t believe in a God or gods or something bigger. Remind yourself as necessary and more often that everything is small and insignificant. Rely only on what you see in front of you. Don’t trust anyone or anything, even yourself.

Don’t get excited.

And never, ever, ever go outside.

A young John Beeler, thinking about all of this

January 18, 2017 / writing