Five Essays I Don't Want to Read
Because they're boring and shitty.
1. I Have a Problem
You guys, I have a problem that you probably aren’t familiar with, but it’s super common among people my age in the same income bracket as me who live in the same geographical area that I do. It’s a literal epidemic! In fact, The Center for The Problem I Have says that not only do more people have this problem than ever before, but people are more confused about how to treat this problem than ever before! And guess what? There’s much less funding for the treatment of this problem than there’s ever been in the history of people my age in my income bracket in my area having this problem! It’s a real problem!
The only thing that makes me feel a tiny bit better about my problem is the prospect that The New Yorker could be interested in publishing a rambling 7,000-word first-person essay about my problem. Otherwise, I’m in hell.
2. I Have Changed
You know what’s crazy? I was completely different a few years ago. I didn’t notice a lot of lovely and poignant things that I notice all the time, now that I’m a little bit older. I never thought about certain concepts and notions that I think about constantly now. In fact, a few days ago, I was walking somewhere pretty and I saw some people doing stuff that I used to do before I even noticed other people existed or did stuff at all, and it was all incredibly poignant and literary. The truth is, my life is much more poignant and literary now than it was a few years ago. I belong in the pages of The New Yorker!
3. My Kid Has Changed
I’ve written before about how incredible and perfect my kid is. But lately, my kid has changed. Before when my kid talked, I used to say to myself, “Wow, I love how this miniature person not only looks like me but also echoes all of my values, beliefs, and views of the world!” But now when my kid talks, it’s not exactly like having a little ventriloquist puppet on my lap. It’s more like dealing with an actual person with their own distinct thoughts and feelings and their own free will. It’s bullshit! My kid has changed! I’m trying to accept it, or at least I want to sound like I’m trying to accept it in this poignant and literary 10,000-word essay, but the truth is that I’m having a complete emotional breakdown over this, one that might just last for the rest of my days on earth!
4. The World Has Changed
Things used to be great. Did you know that? You probably didn’t because you were literally born yesterday. As someone who’s been around a teensy bit longer than you have, though, I can confirm that everything is a lot worse than it was before. Things were fucking incredible in the old days! When I was a kid, everything was bathed in golden light and everyone recognized that people of the same race and income bracket as me who live in the same geographical area that I do were the morally superior, natural born leaders of humankind. These days, though, people are all mixed up and stupid, and it’s not even poignant or literary, either! Things were better before, goddamn it! I guess I’ll have to publish this on Medium.
5. I’m Going to Die Eventually
Holy shit, guys. I’m pretty old now, so I finally realize that I’m going to die eventually. It’s surreal! Luckily, I’ve been filtering all of my disbelief through poignant and literary descriptions of nature so that I can eventually publish them in The New Yorker. I think I’ll be OK with dying as long as my insights into the human condition are published in The New Yorker before I die. Otherwise, my entire life will have been a complete waste — not a poignant and literary waste, mind you, just a waste, full stop. A heap of garbage. A pile of discarded items that get hauled off to Goodwill after you’re dead. That’s my life! But I belong in the pages of The New Yorker, goddamn it!
OK, fine, Slate will have to do.
Write a boring, shitty letter to askmolly at protonmail.com!