Every so often, people stop me on the street and ask “what is it that makes you tick?” then just as I’m about to answer I realize that although I was once a person of substantial promise, I no longer hold this distinct title and am forced to slink off into the night still feeling the sucker punch of truth in my gut.
I remember a night not too long ago where I tried to recapture my lost glory while demonstrating a superior knowledge of all things in an off kilter yet charmingly unpretentious manner and not one fucking soul was buying it.
Finally I started introducing myself like a press release written for the recently washed up “Hi, I’m Kelly and you may remember me from my past attempts at hilarity *here” and *there* or perhaps the time I tried to grab for something more meaningful and fell embarrassingly short? No? Okay, well I’m off to see about that Dim Sum table everyone’s been raving about“
I had high hopes for my return but I find myself shuffling in here like a petulant teenager being told to clean up her act, her room and her life.
No words seem adequate to describe how disappointed I am in the quality of my output and the considerable lack of effort. Clearly it would be easier if someone would just take a sledgehammer to my back causing my chest cavity to explode catapulting my heart muscle out of my body and all over my keyboard.
Even with the bloody goo tangled mess it would probably be easier to understand that sentiment than this never-ending drivel.
So here I am with a seemingly preposterous half-baked return to form promising you that I will do better tomorrow.