I open the music app on my computer and there’s a grossly obese man with dyed blonde ramen-noodle hair cascading down his ovoid head and he’s wearing eye makeup and he’s featured on the front page of the app and although all I want to do is put on some meaningless background noise, I’m drawn to confirm my suspicions about this gentleman so I do some research.
I spend an hour of my precious morning watching interviews, listening to his music, and scrolling through the public response wherever the media has allowed it. I confirm my first impression: this man is representative of what I like to call “the basement generation”: adults who refuse to grow up and face reality. The ones who claim at least one neurodivergence, often self-diagnosed and when professionally diagnosed it’s by a doctor who’s feeding the medical industry by giving it another poor soul to milk through medication rather than recovery and future prevention.
I’ve had direct contact with this man in a variety of forms over the years, and I knew that it could be me if I turned away from the hard diligence of self-discipline and the embracing of who I believe I am and what I can be if only I stive to reach my full potential. I am happy for the reminder, and glad to not have completely wasted that precious hour of my morning, but I know that I could have used the time for far more productive things.
I find the drum ‘n bass that I initially wanted to hear and make a note to find a music app that doesn’t advertise, unsolicited, the frailty of the world.
First draft: 230817
Published: 231227