To be completely honest, I genuinely forgot I had a Substack. In March of last year, I was really excited about Russell Wilson being traded, so I chose to write about it, and well, I think that jinxed any success with the Denver Broncos. Hopefully next season will be better (haha). Perhaps I’ll use this page as an outlet to complain more often, but we’ll see how consistent I stay with it. I did take a 10 month hiatus after all. Besides the point, I found some writing in my notes that I did in a hotel room in Montana last summer. After rereading it, I thought it would be worth publishing my random stream of consciousness at 1 AM. Originally, this piece was intended to be published, except it wasn’t due to the fact that I am fairly unmotivated. Enjoy.
“I’m back” -Michael Jordan
At the moment, I am currently awake in a hotel room at one in the morning. This certain situation has occurred to me several times before, but this time, being in a hotel feels extra annoying for whatever reason. Originally, when I started this Substack, I said that I will be complaining about all the little things that bother me, which is exactly what I am up to at this hour. Tonight, I have found it incredibly unbearable to put my mind at ease and prepare myself for day two of the family vacation. Sitting in bed, I have come to realize that every aspect of Holiday Inn Express’ sleeping accommodations are absolutely miserable. If I could, I would review them 2.5 stars on Yelp, but nobody has the time nor the patience for something so pointless. Seriously, does anybody listen to Yelp reviews? The only reason it’s still at 2.5 stars is because I haven’t had breakfast yet.
As a matter of fact, I am thoroughly looking forward to my complimentary Frosted Flakes with the obnoxious tiger on the side of the box to greet me in the next few hours. Tony Tiger has given me some really awesome hotel breakfasts over the years, even though I only eat Frosted Flakes while on vacation. God, what a magical experience. What isn’t so magical is my dads snoring. I know you are probably reading this Dad, but I have to say, your snoring sounds like semis on a highway. For any of you cultured in the works of Bill Watterson’s Calvin and Hobbes, you will know that I stole that joke from there, which seemed completely appropriate for the occasion. I was going to use a metaphor closer to his snoring sounding like a lawn mower failing to start, but semis sounded funnier, and it made sense, to me at least. Anyways, in the certain Calvin and Hobbes comic strip, Calvin is ironically in the same situation as me. Struggling to get some sleep and having to listen to everyone else around him snore. Moments like this really make me appreciate the comfort of my own room just a little more.
In order to escape the recreated sounds of Interstate 25, I decided to take advantage of my Airpods noice cancellation feature. I must applaud Apple for this (even though I think they’re a shady company) as it is truly a magnificent invention, certainly more than ideal for tuning out the sounds of your father’s snoring. Personally, I think noise cancelling anything should be a basic human right. I decided to listen to some Radiohead, more specifically, their masterpiece. OK Computer is a flawless album, and I hold it in a high standard, especially at one in the morning. I haven’t ever taken the time to listen to it all the way through, and being that this moment is the perfect opportunity to do so, I did in fact, listen to all 58 minutes of it. Once it had finished, I was hit with the sudden urge to write, and here I am. Until now, I had convinced myself that six going on seven years of creative writing had destroyed my passion, but I might’ve proven myself wrong. Key word being “might.” I complain about it a lot, but I’m not here to do that right now. What I am complaining about is the hotel where everything is slowly falling apart. Nothing is meeting my standards, and I am very disappointed.
Only halfway through the night was it discovered that the A/C must be turned on manually, and this certain establishment lets its patrons take free reins of how they want the temperature in their room. This, right here, is the true meaning of liberty and freedom. This is what America should be: controlling your own thermostat. Being in a state like Montana makes me feel so patriotic. But besides the fact, the people running this place should’ve put a sign on the front door or something, because I was physically sweating between the hours of 11:30 to about now.
I’m looking around at the rest of my family who, like me, ditched the cheap comforter that smells slightly of chlorine and tried to fall asleep in the uncomfortable thickness of this room. I also found that there are too many annoying lights in the dark here, starting with the alarm clock. Bright red is just awful for any digital clock face, and to have it right next to my head is not a pleasant experience. The fire detector on the wall has this really obnoxious white light that flashes every eleven seconds, which I took notice of halfway through OK Computer. Ah, the things one can do this early in the morning. But continuing with the lights; the bathroom, the DVD player, and even the strip mall next door are all interfering me trying to get any sleep. As if I thought my Dad’s constant snoring could make this task any more difficult, I have all these splendid inconveniences to go along with that. I am, truly, in paradise.
YOU LISTEN TO THOMMY YORKE CRY LIKE BABY AND GRANDPAPA BLOW PILLOW HORN HAHAHA... Enjoyed this greatly.
Writing is a lifelong exercise to refine at any phase of life. WIth passion or without (life presents many distractions; weeks to months, sometimes years), the power in writing helps many of find our truest, unmercifully honest voice.
As there is an art to writing, that applies to the art of speaking— something that's incredibly difficult for most writers; but starting with writing and exercising the voice within words serves as an incredible tool for learning how to speak amongst peasants when challenges are presented.
The toughest part up front is accepting that most peasants don't listen or read very well. Again, the need for writing insures and strengthens the voice within and with those before you. I've weeded out weeds (peasants) throughout life with words written more than once, but it's still important to be able to talk those words out.
Sounds like a pretty snazzy paradise to me🤷♂️