So Jim Gaffigan live-streams him eating dinner with his family on YouTube, and I can’t stop watching it. Is it a waste of time? Yes. Am I a creep? Probably. There is some weird joy that I derive out of watching an unknown family eat dinner while talking about their day-to-day. Plus, they donate all the money they make from the livestream to Covid relief.
I never ate dinner with my family. We would all run to our corners of the house. Less family-time was more me-time. That was until dad died. Then things changed a little. There seemed to be an invisible glue holding us together while we ate. It might not be at the dining table. It might be in front of a television, watching some stupid shit, but we held on, because now we know what loss feels like. An empty space at the table is always uncomfortable. People don’t talk about it, but it’s at the back of everyone’s mind.
Moral of the story:
Fucking eat dinner with your fucking family (to all the teenagers out there). If you’re over 25, get the fuck out of the house for God’s sake. It’s embarrassing.
Every night, when I lock the front door, I feel a stream of cold air on my toes, from the gap beneath the door. As my crippling OCD makes repeated requests to check and re-check the locks, I hear people in the hallway revel in conversation. Lucky are those who enjoy partaking in human-to-human interactions, for man is after all, a social animal. Here I am, writing to myself. Every line, a little gayer than the last. Is it a poem? Is it prose? What is prose, anyway? I mean really, what the fuck is it?
My luscious hair has grown so beautifully that I get pleasure out of running my fingers through it. It’s like a black river, but with no fish in it.
A title like ‘black beauty’ assumes that the content would be about a woman/horse of dark complexion, but no. It’s about my hair. It’s all about luring people in with the promise of a great read, and disappointing them. Plus, my hair deserves a post.
There exists blogs, vlogs and tweets that will never be seen, just because they were made by the creator, for the creator, or for a cause.
Please like, share, follow. I seek attention.