Com-com-parison, is killing me, slowly. 
Olivia Rodrigo

Before I start gnawing the sinew from the bone, I'd like to draw your attention to what I feel is some really solid lyric writing by at best a 17 year old girl. Hell she could have been 15 or 16 knowing how long most people have songs bouncing around in their heads before they get them recorded. 

While I don't know for sure that she wrote every line of her album that's been streamed a gazillion times, there's plenty of well written songs by young Olivia Rodrigo, aka the next Taylor Swift. 

It's of course way too soon for this declaration and I do feel she borrows a bit too much from her idols, ironically a practice we allow rap and hip hop artists to do without judging their prowess. Regardless the above line is what brought me here today. 

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Towards the end of last year, I made one of an alarming number of whimsical internet purchases. I say whimsical, but maybe I mean without thought, an easy couple of keystrokes and I have joined a 52 week guided writing course! (only $35!). I’ve yet to feel the whimsy. 

Like most things. I should have known better. I'm not a terribly hippie dippie, chakras and crystals type of guy (read: complete opposite of that), but I was in a rut and buying digital content is easier than picking up a Snickers in the grocery cart line, so I hit purchase and awaited my first "lesson".  

Lesson implies teaching. This is a prompt. A new age one at that and I was immediately looking to slam my bare pinky toe into the bed frame as punishment for the error of my ways. The first prompt was for me to dig into whatever "roadblocks" are keeping me from what I want in life. Here is where you listen for the audible eye roll I'm recreating at this very moment. 

The cliches were thick and the inspiration lack. I closed the link and started whining about how depressed I was instead. You're welcome. 

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Normally I'd just delete the weekly emails from this particular site, but now I felt like I owed myself the punishment for a poor life choice. This morning as I was perusing the daily emails I normally delete, and this weeks assignment showed up!  

The first thing I thought was "who the fuck starts their week on a Tuesday?", and then hit open. 

Today's prompt asked a multitude of questions regarding what was missing from my life. Cue Olivia in my head. "Com-comparison, is killing me, slowly....”.. As I sat quietly with my dog asleep on my arm, I scanned my grey matter for any unhealthy acts of comparison I had participated, willingly or otherwise, over the recent months. 

I'm happy to report that finally, I've found something that doesn't ail me. I mean sure, I'd love more guitars, a vintage Land Cruiser, Jeff Buckley's voice and a decked out music studio/writing space, and yes, being a fitter, faster runner would be welcomed, but I don't sit around soaking in envy of those that have those things. 

If I've learned nothing over these 50 and 1/2 years it's that when we think so and so has it made, there is always some sort of dark underbelly to it all. Ted from accounting may drive a 60's Porsche, but his wife would like to kill him in his sleep if she could only get away with it. Kelly has 7% body fat and can crush a marathon, but also eats 4 acorns and a satsuma every day. Ricky has a beautiful house with a 4 car garage and perfect teeth, but owes the IRS $300k in back taxes. 

It's a trick. Or a trap. Or both. 

For all the pratfalls of the social media and my apparent addiction to it, I am happy to report that the constant comparisons to others, with their rock hard tasty abs, perfect skin and hair, flawless outfits (I don’t call them this, because Jason Isbell said to not to), and perfect little curated lives are not a thing I think about or try to portray. Take that Zuckerberg!!

Internet- 763

PF-1

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This morning, my guided writing lesson/charge to you is the following. 

Give yourself a fucking break and quit comparing yourself to others. 

Sure. Hold yourself responsible for your actions, be good, do right by others, blah blah blah. 

Just don't be jealous of others. 

It's a complete waste of energy.  

We all know deep down that Ted from accounting is an asshole. 

Oh. And go listen to SOUR by Olivia Rodrigo. You may hate it, but at least if you're going to be jealous, it should be of her fantastic writing. 

This concludes 2022's self help post. 

#hugsandhi5s