“THAT FEELING WHEN”

“TFW” is a common form of instagram, twitter and tumblr posts mainly used by adolescents. In a not-at-all sad attempt to be accessible and make sense in the post-internet world I sometimes feign an understanding of, here’s me expressing my feelings toward the utter futility of myself, included but not limited to this blog, everything i’ve ever said, made, created, et al.

 

TFW you hate everything you’ve ever done and wonder what the fuck you’ve done with your life and why you always stubbornly refused to set goals or focus on one thing that interested you for fear of excluding the trillion other things that interested you which makes you seem like an unfocused maniac while you attempt to pursue intellectually rewarding employment and you want to delete everything you’ve ever written but realize that if you do, you may has well have spent the last five years posting semi-nude photos on instagram and tumblr because you haven’t found any meaningful context for your existence anyway. Do you ever get that feeling?

 

Maybe that one was too long for a twitter post, and that’s why I don’t have a twitter. It’s definitely not because I don’t understand twitter because I do understand that facebook is where people publicly talk to their friends and twitter is where people publicly talk to their televisions. How I wish I could stay focused without so much tangential thinking! Let me try again:

 

TFW you can’t write anymore because you don’t read enough because you’ve been traumatized by too much of Hemingway’s perfect, soul-shaking concision which has inadvertently caused you to take your already destructive editing habits to a new level of whittling away at your own work to the point where there are four words left in a sentence that began with forty-three words and your friends say “Lauren nothing you do is consistent” and you say “Yes” without knowing if you’re agreeing or trying to defend yourself.

 

TFW you’re up before dawn with a wild urge to create something trivial, maybe nonsensical, but true to the moment’s impulse… but you know you have to go back to sleep in order to wake up for work. I wish I could stop feeling so bitterly about this.

 

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