Motherfuckers and Left-Turns

If you really want to hear about it… well actually, nah you probably don’t. It’ll be some David Copperfield kinda crap, which is kinda ironic because the purpose of this story itself is some David Copperfield kinda crap. Well, let’s just go with the obvious things then. There was a lousy goddamn childhood, where I went to a bunch of different phony schools, and then there were some arrogant and uptight girlfriends that didn’t really give a fuck about about all else but fucking. So there you have it - my life in a sentence. But that’s just it, you see. It’s just that, and that’s all that’s really happened. I mean, really happened. Have you ever wondered about the art of dealing with the devil? Well buddy, you got a lot to learn. The devil is in the details or some other kinda cringe-ey cliches that you’ve heard about a billion times already. But that’s just it, you see. You actually kinda learn all this stuff, and it really does define who you are. It’s not what you do that really matters, in the grand scheme of things but it is what you do with it. All I’ve ever done, to anything and anyone ever, was leave it the fuck alone.

So now that you have my whole life in one shitty paragraph, you’re probably thinking about the waste of god forsaken time this read is going to be. I guess it is my job to keep you compelled to read further, and I think that a good way to go about that would be to explain what the hell the title of this story is all about. I could tell you straight away, or… actually, fuck it. I will tell you straight away, because once you have the whole story in front of you, like I did with my life, you’ll just be left wondering what the rest of these pages are all about. I can say that, here will lie the story, but the rest of these pages contain the beauty of the story. So let’s cut to the chase. I am a motherfucker and I have a compulsion to always take a left-turn.

Where the hell did it all begin? Let’s think back. A shitty childhood - that seems like a good start. But I don’t really have enough pages to be able to capture all of it in all its phony glory. Let’s come to high school then, when I turned my life around. I used to be like really really fat when I was a kid, and stayed indoors to read books and play chess. I couldn’t kick a ball straight, and honestly entered that airplane brace position whenever someone threw something at me, for me to catch (even if it was a fucking candy bar). Well, long story short, I lost all the weight, and picked up a guitar. It was after I went to Australia with my family. I was 10 years old at the time, and saw this street musician playing this really sad melancholy tune. God, it depressed the hell outta me. And that was the moment I fell in love.

I guess love is kinda just the fusion of an unearthly jealousy and mountainous envy. But you know what those things do to you right? They depress the hell outta you. And that’s where love comes in, you see. You’re so goddamn jealous of how fucking attractive and sexy this girl is - you just can’t help but love her. And that’s really the best way - the right way, I know now - to deal with resentments. What she’s ever done is just be perfect, and you hold that as your resentment, and to deal with that, you gotta show compassion - you gotta show love. That’s what really cures depression.

I kinda went off track, but let’s go back to that really cool looking dude in Melbourne. He was just an ordinary bloke with a guitar, playing this melancholy thing, and that, for the first time in my life, was when I saw true beauty. If you’ve had the thought that I might be sexually into this guy, well keep reading. Sorry, I wasn’t, but that tells me that you are just the right person to read this story. So I fell in love with his guitar playing, and just really wanted to be able to do it myself. I wasn’t inspired as much as I was jealous. I told you I am a motherfucker, didn’t I?

Well, so cut to about a couple years later, and you would’ve seen me as the goddamn prom king. It was pretty great honestly. I had the sexiest girl in the school with my arm tucked around, and I was top of the class. That’s not where this adolescent stardom came from. It came from my guitar playing. A time where all the other bands had female singers, because girls were the only ones that could sing well, and three guys playing the same goddamn things on Casio keyboards playing some poppy dancing shit, I was the only one that started a punk band, and played guitar. God, it was so great. The whole school was after me. But that’s when I realized probably the most important thing I ever have realized in my life.

What the hell is the goddamn point in all this? Wouldn’t things be more fun if I took a left-turn?

I guess my first left turn was when I lost all the weight and became the cool band guy. It was like, the greatest one eighty ever. I don’t mean to brag, but if I do, you’ll really understand why it was so difficult when it all just so happened to fall apart.

So I left both, and went to this new high school, about mid way through. I was kinda done with all that shit. I achieved more than what any nerd would dream, and yeah, that’s exactly what I was. I was ashamed of myself, and so that’s why I took a left turn. Well this new high school was kinda hard. Cause I had no credibility, I was starting from scratch. Well, that’s where drinking came in, and yeah, I could drink more than any of those phonies.

Then, along came this really beautiful asexual girl, who I just so happened to fall in love with. It was that damn jealousy again. She wasn’t super hot or anything, but boy was she perfect. She had everything I felt made a person complete. She read a lot of books, and was always positive about everything. She never drank or anything, and that’s probably why there was all that positivity. I kinda realized I was everything that was missing in her life, and that’s where the mutual love grew. I am the polar opposite of her, and together we enjoy both sides of the world. This was real, probably the most perfect relationship ever, for me. And we hit it off really well.

And just while things were going great for us, I decided to quit. We could have achieved so much, but I take more pride in left turns than I do in anything else. I prioritized my drinking, and I moved abroad cause it was time for college.

And at 17, I was the youngest person in the whole damn college! Well, here we come to the actual story. That was me recalling everything even though I said I wouldn’t. I told you I won’t tell you my past, but I did anyways. That’s a left turn I took solely for you.

It was this one day where I had a goddamn group project, and I had to meet up with a bunch of phony assholes. So I got over to the building and found the room, and I was the first one there, and the only one that was pretty drunk. And along came this guy named Joe, who is a pretty nice guy, who doesn’t really have anything about himself or his personality. He just took a seat and we waited for the other pricks to show up, whenever the hell that was going to be. I was happy I took a stroll over to this tavern by the train station for a few glasses of whiskey beforehand. It really did calm me. 

Drinking while studying, now that is real learning. I remember sitting through a business class once and learned about how businesses grow in the world, and the benefits that corporations and companies give to the general public. All I grasped from it is that you basically start a small business where all you do is rip other people off, and then once your business grows big, you just start ripping other businesses off, and that’s where capitalism comes in - the whole Earth is just another shit show where everyone keeps ripping each other off and nobody gets anywhere. And that’s business in a nutshell for you. Don’t bother with a college degree, seriously.

Richie showed up then, with this other really shy girl. They weren’t dating or anything, but just happened to show up at the same time. And for a fucking school project, he had to bring this huge ass burger from a nearby restaurant along. That was his lunch supposedly. And he did that thing where he just eats in front of everyone, not giving a fuck about respect or anything. I don’t really care about myself, but for fuck’s sake, don’t eat in a damn library! And god, was it horrendous. The burger itself had like three patties in it, about bigger than your palm in size, each, and then had this melted cheese that drooled out the sides and slid along disgustingly down the burger. How the hell are you expected to eat that? Your hands get all dirty, and the cheese and sauce gets all around your lips. God forbid you have a beard, because that’s gonna vacuum anything that is even near it.

So he went on having his five pound burger which cost twelve pounds, because that just makes perfect sense, and kept chewing on like a cow that hasn’t seen grass for weeks. I mean, at least if he kept his mouth closed while he chewed I would keep my goddamn mouth shut. But nah, he didn’t, and so I won’t. Is it a sex thing? Why the hell would you want to look at anyone while they eat? And what compels them to show that to other people? It really is just one of the stupid things in this goddamn modern world that I just happen to be alive in. Well, it doesn’t really stop there. Another member of our team came along, Bianca, with a goddamn coffee that just had to change the scent of the whole room. I like the smell of books and paper, and it really makes it feel like a library, but a coffee certainly doesn’t.

I get it now - the modern world. Especially now, because I saw their social media posts, and stories, and how everyone fantasizes about the meal they’re having. I’m not one of those phonies that’s gonna say, “don’t brag about the food you’re having, there are kids starving in Africa,” or some other bullshit like that. The thing is, sure it is great for them to post this stuff. It makes them feel good about themselves. They can very easily look away from the fact that they are just fat.

It’s not even obesity, that’s something that is not up for debate. But these motherfuckers are the ones that used to call a fat kid a little too ‘chubby’, but then go on to eat endlessly burgers that are bigger than most palms on planet Earth. God, the number of people I’ve met that told me that they love food, or some shit like they’re a “foodie” and are super skinny - what a load of crap, honestly. When the hell did the Earth turn again? A few years ago, when I used to eat a whole foot-long sub by myself, people looked at me like I was a fat piece of shit. But now, after I’ve lost all the weight, and changed how much I eat, society just decided to take a left turn and start calling being a “foodie” cool. 

And please, don’t even get me started on social media. An account where they can boast about their skills and talents, their likes and interests - all I see is goddamn food and more food. And those fucking good vibes. Is everyone else secretly a millionaire or something? I really don’t see how everyone is so goddamn happy all the time. It’s not that it’s wrong, but I always feel left out of their happiness.

But to hell with all that. I really don’t think that I should indulge in order to try and find happiness for myself. I’d rather stick to what gives me pride, and take another left turn. So I left, and walked home, on a pretty rainy day, and it kinda sucked honestly, cause I couldn’t have a cigarette in the rain. Thankfully there was a smoking shelter where I live, so as I got home I went there. God, it really was a great place to be. There was this wicked tree which had nice leaves - kinda sharp, but just how I like them - and it gave the most perfect shade from sunlight and rain over this wooden bench there was. The bench was kinda rickety but that just gives it more character. Think about it, what’s better - a new IKEA park bench made from plastic, or a good ol’ rickety wooden bench? I took out a book I had in my satchel and continued reading. I was at the part where the writer was about to tell me what happened with the prostitute the narrator called to his hotel room. And so, I lit one, and started to be the chimney I am.

What was her name, again? Lily, or Tiffany, or something that ended with a ‘y’. Kinda funny cause she came for a cigarette and started talking to me, and all I could think of was, “why? Why are you interrupting my book?” And I guess she was just looking for someone to gossip with, so I indulged. Except - it isn’t really gossip because she started talking about me. It was something along the lines of, ‘reading is really cool. Wow. You read books? That’s pretty neat. You know I’ve been thinking about reading this book,’ and it always turns out to be some cheesy book by some fucking internet blogger. Or even a youtuber, which is way worse. Don’t get me wrong - I’m not pissed off at that woman for talking to me about reading. Well, actually, I’m grateful that she struck up a conversation with me. 

What baffles me is when the hell exactly the Earth turned. Why is reading a cool thing now? When I was growing up, and reading, people said things like, ‘reading a book, huh? Nerd. That’ll help you get laid.’ And well, I don’t hold that against them, but why the hell does reading help me get laid now? Honestly, I swear to god, if I took a novel and went over to any fast food joint and ordered like four burgers for my ‘meal time’, I’d very quickly turn into a god of lust and sex or something. No really, if you have trouble getting laid, go read a book with a burger, and you’ll thank me for reminding you to buy condoms.

I guess it kinda was that girl’s phoniness that really turned me off. She was really sweet though, but I had other plans and ideas. I went back to the library, because at least there I felt I would be in the right place. There was another project due in a few days, so I decided to work on that. I started to, and lost interest in about fifteen minutes. I was keen to get work done, just not that work. My coding skills were rusty and I thought I might as well work on that. And so I did, and so did another complete stranger start talking to me. This guy named Noel, who I remember being the hot stuff of the class, started asking me about why I code, when my course literally has nothing to do with programming. 

And that’s just it again, you see? Coding never helped me get laid or anything. The sports guys were the cool ones, and now they think I’m cool because I code and read. God, what a bunch of phonies. They give in and change so easily. If only I was born now, goddamn, I could land anyone I wanted with just a wink and a smile. But yeah, I told him some phony crap and lied a whole bunch, and left. I just wanted to get away from all that shit. The walk back home seemed longer and more treacherous than the last time, probably because it was the second time within the hour. 

The number of phonies I’ve walked past, god. All wearing some crap that explicitly ensured the whole street knew what brand it is. I mean, seriously? These phony brands - I don’t get why people want to do the dirty advertising work for billion dollar companies. If I buy a bag, it’s because I want a goddamn bag, not because I want to be a walking billboard with that brand name stuck like a dick up my ass. Phoniness. That about sums it all up.

And well, I had nothing else to fucking do and didn’t have anyone to call, because everyone was busy getting bubble tea. I never really indulged and don’t really know if bubble tea dinner dates at two in the afternoon are helpful for progress, so I can’t say a thing about them. But, yeah, I went home, and drank a little more, and decided to work in peace. There was some flat party in the evening, so I made my way there. I wore a shirt of a band I love, and just my old jeans, and made way there.

I walked into the flat and sat next to Madeleine, the only person I knew there, and started drinking beers. It was in fact Bianca’s flat, and I noticed a whole bunch of phonies from my course there. I started talking to Madeleine and some other girl friends of hers and quickly understood just how phony they all were. They also did make fun of me cause I didn’t hear of this boy band called Migos, or some shit. And also because I had never heard of Lil Pump, and Lil plump, and Lil jump, and Lil dump, and Lil shut the fuck up and whoever else the fuck everyone else thought was super trendy. Now you see why I’ve never heard of them?

And yeah, just as always, I turned into the laughing stock of the group. “Dude, seriously, go back to the sixties, where you belong,” and stuff like, “are you forty?” but all that stuff doesn’t really bother me, because I really just don’t care. But there was only one person there, who said she’d accompany me downstairs and outside for a cigarette, who seemed the least phony of them all. Her name was Eve, and god, you should’ve seen her. She was like, really hot, and she started making out with me. And there was all that sex stuff, which I don’t really get. Somewhere in the pillow talk, I learned that she just wanted to have a one time fling with this rockstar looking dude from the sixties, and that’s all I really ever meant to her. Fuck, if only I told her that I read and eat burgers and code, she would’ve married me then and there.

So yeah, we basically fucked and did a whole bunch of other stuff, but that’s not what I care about. Sex is supposed to be a spiritual thing, and if you have it often then you won’t really appreciate it when it happens at a special time. Well, I won’t lie, I kinda did enjoy it, but I didn’t care much about it. And of course, I just happen to be that ‘true love’ type of guy, so I told her that we should try and hang out more and stuff, and I really did persuade her to say yes. Probably because somewhere there I brought up books and coding. I kinda transformed her that night. I spoke about all the things I’ve written here, and she agreed with me on all of them. And yes, I was completely wrong about her, as there was so much more to her. I realized then that looks can be very deceiving and you should never judge a person by what they appear to you as. That throws ‘clothes maketh a man’ for a loop.

And so, the next morning, we did some more stuff, and it was time for us to say some things. But she didn’t want to say goodbye. She asked me to come to her place, and hang out for a bit, and then go for a ball or some crap with her in the evening. And it would’ve been great too. And that was exactly where I learned about her lies. I mean, I don’t mind being lied at all by her, given that she really was so sexy, but she really is a phony, who kinda just wanted to experience a bit of my life. She said she loves me, and yeah I did love her too. But I knew then what I had to do. Being the motherfucker I am, I took a left turn, and said good-by and left. Went back to my place, and continued reading that book because I was coming to the important bit. It is disrespectful to throw all there is to her aside and only focus on her phoniness. And I can’t help but do it.

I guess looking back in retrospect, I don’t really feel good at all about any of this. I keep taking left turns because of this compulsion I have. I do it because, well, society itself takes too many left turns. She was there, and could’ve really been the one to love me, and show me the beauty of the modern world, and help me enjoy the great things, and enjoy nice dates in pretty places, and enjoy going to raves and all that kinda stuff. I could avoid being depressed as fuck, if I just show her love and compassion. But instead of reaching out to that promising future, I’d rather accept the motherfucker nature of myself and take a left turn.

People really do need stuff like this. In today’s world, all these things help people feel good about themselves and who they are. This is the stuff that honestly keeps people happy and living from one day to the next. They walk out smiling and walk home smiling. The positivity brings a glow to their face. All of them, everyone else, have so many things they like and enjoy. And all I ever really do is find what I dislike about people, things, and places. I guess, I really am the biggest phony of them all. Aside from mother nature, I don’t really like anything else. And that’s just it. I have nothing about myself to feel good about. Being this kinda person, where I point to everyone’s flaws, just kills me over time. I feel like shit for thinking this way, and I can’t help myself. Everyone else has courage, and will, to keep on living, and that’s all that really matters in life. I don’t, and all I can really do is try and set my personal resentments aside, and try to enjoy the better side of life. Maybe I really should just throw my personality away. Society changes, and I need to change with it to be able to get the best out of life. That’s what the right path is.

Eve didn’t really lie to me. I just believe that because it makes me feel better about this knack I have - the knack for fucking everything up. I just called it all ‘lies’ to feel good about myself. I can’t help but think that she really did mean all those things she said to me. She said she loves me and her eyes said she wasn’t lying. And at that moment I felt, ‘how would it be to fuck it all up?’ I just keep dreaming of what could be and I seem to be falling more and more in love with her. Real love. God, I love her so much. I really should go back and talk to her and apologise.

Will I do that? You tell me. I did tell you I am a motherfucker right? (who always enjoys a left turn)

Thanks, bitches!

This is where you’re supposed to say thanks and a whole bunch of other phony shit.

Let’s get the mentions out, before the thanks.

David Copperfield, Trump, Casio, IKEA, and the other people in this story.

Well, I guess I just have one person to thank for this.

But knowing him, he probably doesn’t care about a thank you, especially from me.

I still feel I should write his name. I’ve learned a lot from him. He is someone we can all learn quite a lot from. Trump, Mother Teresa, Bill Cosby, or anyone else that gives a fuck about who they are - well, actually, anybody that is in contact with anyone else. So basically every person on this goddamn planet (unless you are one of the lucky ones, and you never really have to ever talk to anybody).

So here’s his name, and you might have guessed it right, given my goddamn tone.

Holden Caulfield.