Be Foolish

I’m having a difficult time writing, and ideas are being crumbled from my head into solitary words, creating incomprehension and nonsense.  There is a lot to be said, but sometimes you simply cannot.  Instead, really listening/reading has been accomplished.  While listening to my regular go-to, El Ten Eleven, I stared at a brick wall to come up with what is below.

Be foolish.  Just simply be.

Oh, and true to yourself.  That’s a biggie.

This is just a suggestion, a reminder to be your fallible self.

There is no encouragement here to make poor decisions; you already–we’re all rooting for the best for one another and believe that truth or not–clearly understand the difference of right and wrong.

If you’re going to be spontaneous, do so.  Make sure you run it by yourself first, and make sure that it won’t hurt feelings or compromise your integrity.

Be witty before you throw the sarcasm out there.

Be playful, don’t be creepy.

Smile, don’t leer.

Open the door for her, for anyone, for a stranger.

Ease and tread lightly.

Remember to be foolish.

Dream big, don’t sell yourself or an opportunity short.

Just because your first date isn’t in Rome or Paris or London or any big city abroad doesn’t mean you can’t go there.  That’s why there are chapters.

Maybe you’ll meet each other in one of those cities.
Maybe it will be a first date.

Maybe you’ll meet online.  That works out for some people.  It doesn’t have to be a dating website.  It happens for some people.

Meet halfway.

Call, don’t text more often than not.  Skype and email are also a preferred options.

Write handwritten letter and notes, prevent that art from fading, dying out.

Buy blank cards or stationary, because you’re words are most important.
Don’t let anyone speak for you in cheesy poems.
Write a lot, or write one sentence that says what you’re feeling.
Anything in between doesn’t/won’t make sense.

Leave a book that adds to the definition of your existence in a random, open spot.  Put a note in it.  Someone will do the same.

Maybe that book will find its way back to you, and inside the cover will read signatures of all those who’ve read it.

If you feel like you’ve done wrong, don’t be afraid to slap yourself in the face when no one is watching.

Or slap your  face when people are watching.  That’s up to you.

Guys, don’t allow her to think this:

schmuck

Gals, we can be just as romantic, so this–despite us writers enjoying a nice new pen–doesn’t help the cause:

pen

Remember to be foolish.

Know when to step back and check yo-self before you wreck yo-self.

Improv more.

Improv(e) more.

Let loose, don’t be stiff.

The perks of being a wallflower is that you notice everyone having fun, but you’re realizing that you’re being yourself and not stepping out, trying something new.  The perks of not being a wallflower:  you don’t realize that you’re having fun, stepping out to beat feeling uncomfortable and growing.

Make fun bets.  Maybe one will involve holding a pineapple above one’s head while reciting lines from The Lion King.

It difficult and sometimes hurts to make eye contact, so do that more.

Smile more.

Smirk more… you’ll generate a laugh.

Quote more, and impersonate celebrities terribly.

Buying someone a coffee is a good conversation starter.  Just make sure they don’t have a ring.

Sing loudly in the car.  Dance in the car, because all terrible dancers look like they know what they’re doing while strapped in.

Listen to metal, and try to growl or scream along.  Hint:  it’s all about using your diaphragm.

Don’t drive angry.

Don’t drink too much, unless it’s your birthday.  We’re getting too old for this hungover shit, remember.  No one likes sleeping on a couch.

Don’t assume.  Ask.

Don’t beat your head.  It might help your cause.

Find a picture that defines several aspects and use it as the background on your computer.

Head banging

Brag about the picture.

Be foolish.  Life up to that picture.

Bang your face into a pillow.

Remember to be foolish.  Laugh at yourself.

5 thoughts on “Be Foolish

  1. While my dear wife Karen and I were enjoying our once-in-a-lifetiime cruise that stopped at four Hawaiian islands, I finished my copy of Carl Hiaasen’s latest novel, ‘Star Island,’ sitting next to the pool one afternoon. Instead of packing it away to return to Syracuse, I slipped it into the ‘H’ shelf in the Pride of America’s floating library. It still thrills me to think my copy of Carl continues to cruise from port to port in Hawaii, hopefully enjoyed by dozens of happy vacationers. Thanks for reminding me of this, Chris.

    • Mark: That’s amazing! Thank you so much for sharing this story with all of us. I’m sure the book is definitely being enjoyed, and all of those who read it are thanking you in some way.

      I’m about to send a book out to the world as well, The Crack-Up a compilation of F. Scott Fitzgerald notes, letters, and observations.

      The night is going oddly well since your comment. Thank you for the good vibes. I’ve even reblogged a post that I felt necessary and fitting due to the song in it.

      And they say things don’t happen for a reason… I’m curious if your book has caused such an enlightening mind spin.

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