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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/999846-Do-Not-Want
Rated: 18+ · Book · Personal · #1196512
Not for the faint of art.
#999846 added December 8, 2020 at 12:08am
Restrictions: None
Do Not Want
"30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS [13+]:
8. Brownie Day
There are many types of brownies:
Fudgy, cakey, 'special', with or without nuts, etc...
Tell us something about brownies.

"JAFBG [XGC]:
What is something that you honestly want for the holidays that you could never admit to your loved ones?


Okay, I gotta admit I'm not feeling it today. I can't figure how to make these prompts work. It happens sometimes. I'll respond to them straight up, but don't expect creativity, humor, or any of that shit from me today. Yesterday, and continuing into today, I was utterly overwhelmed with frustration and resentment at life, the universe, and everything, and I just don't see that changing anytime soon, which only feeds back onto the frustration in an infinite recursion.

Less than two weeks to the solstice. 5:02 am Eastern time, Monday, December 21. It's been my habit, in most years recently, to stay awake through that longest night. Somehow I always feel like the astronomical reversal could mirror a reversal in my own shitty December mood. And sometimes it does. But again, I just don't see that happening this time. It's frustrating and I resent it.

And look, concerning that second prompt up there, if I had loved ones, if I could bring myself to give enough of a shit about myself or anyone else, then presumably I could tell them anything, even including admitting something I wanted. On the other hand, I wouldn't share it here. That's not how any of this works. But when it comes to something that I "honestly" want for the holidays, it would be for the holidays to be fucking over already. I'm done with this shit. I did my usual taphouse visit yesterday, even though it was cold and dreary like December usually is, and I sat on the patio and got subjected to holiday music. Not even beer could make me feel better. I mean, seriously, how many versions of "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" can they fit into a single one-hour dining experience? It was like... that song, some other song, then a different version of that song, then another sappy POS song, then that song again in yet another version, then "Baby it's cold outside," then that sonofabitching song again... it's frustrating and I resent it.

Maybe I just need to make brownies, as per the first prompt. I used to do that sort of thing, you know, like normal people: bake stuff when I felt like it. It just feels like too much work, these days. And then what? Then I end up with a bunch of brownies or whatever. I could, technically, eat them quickly, but that wouldn't be healthy. Or I could eat them slowly, but then they'll go bad before I finish them. It's frustrating and I resent it.

The problem with other peoples' brownies is you never know what you're going to get. Too many variations. I like them denser than a neutron star and completely free of nuts of any kind -- basically a chocolate bar. But you go to a restaurant or whatever and they'll have a light fluffy cakey brownie thing with walnuts and/or pecans. Look, I got nothing against nuts (apart from peanuts, which aren't really nuts), but I want my chocolate unadulterated. It's frustrating and I resent it.

But then when I've tried to make my own, it never goes right. The edges become hard as bricks and the inside is mushy as a dead rabbit. It's frustrating and I resent it.

I can't even bring myself to make a snide pun about the other kinds of brownies out there: the gnome-type ones from folklore or the girl scout ones. I want to, but again, I'm just not feeling it. I don't see a way out of this funk. I just don't. Can I just sleep through to March? Please? Oh, but then I wouldn't reach my goal of writing a blog entry every day this year. But that would be typical, wouldn't it? Most of my goals fail. It's frustrating and I resent it.

© Copyright 2020 Robert Waltz (UN: cathartes02 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/999846-Do-Not-Want