Authentic! The New Cool.

Good Morning

Was just reading some of the dribble I've shoveled the last few days and wondered who the fuck is that guy. He seems happy go lucky, full of hope and promise. An optimist dare I say. Certainly not Bitter. Worst of all someone I loathe - a whore spreading his legs for all the world to see. Look at me! Look at me! See what I'm doing! See how hard I'm trying! See me! Love me! Blah fucking blah.

Not cool. It dawned on me - I'm not cool. Tough to take. I'm not sure I've ever been cool, but I know I've tried to be cool. I'm giving it up. I don't want to be anything but Authentic. Does that make me cool? At times I know I've thought I was. I have a great picture of me from my New York City days. Dressed in black, a wee splash of color, strategically placed lower lip hair. You know the prick? The cool prick. I was a man about town. A would be ladies man. I was an artist!

Last night I watched three artist talk of their art, their craft. Watching "It Might Get Loud" and it came to me - I'm giving up ever attempting to be cool. Jack White is cool. A creative genius. And cool. Sure he works at being cool, the shite he does just doesn't come natural I'm convinced. It's just not worth it. I'm not giving up living, just trying to get anyone to think anything about me. I'm striving to be Authentic. Fuck cool, it's not worth my effort. Does that make me cool?????????????

It may shock some people who know me. "You tried to be cool?" Yes I have. That practiced indifference. Seen it, know it, done it. Let me talk about my art, keeps me from being a craftsman. Let me be cool, keeps you at arms length. Cool kept me from being Authentic. Cool kept my focus on others, not on what matters to me. Right now what matters to me is being true to myself. And clearly what matters to me right now is sharing with you, my screaming stark raving mad fans. Legs they be spread.

I woke this morning feeling very uncool, very unloved, desperate for a hit of an old tonic. I could go on, but whining is not what I want to do. Ever. Nor do I want to blame someone else for my heartache. So I thought I'd come write about how uncool I was to make myself feel better - and I wonder why I'm fucking bitter? Full disclosure, I didn't even come to write about how uncool I am, I came out to see if my tonic would be around to see me. Fucking uncool, but true.

I want to go up to the fellow smoking on the sidewalk beside me and punch him. For no reason other than I feel raw. Exposed. Alone. Fuck am I whining? It sounded like it. I suppose I'll stop then. Move forward with my day. Part of me wants to write about how much it's going to suck and part of me wants to share beautiful heartfelt intentions. I'll split the difference, I'm going to be Authentic. That's all I can ever hope for, true to myself in each moment.

Here's to great moments. Tragically uncool, wonder-filled Authentic moments.

Love, Light and Laughs,
BS