Story Per Day 2017
NGT is in a year of metamorphosis. It is a year of skill development. A year of doing what I love instead of doing what I have to do to succeed. It is a year of achievement.
January being the first month means this is a month of reflection. And I am setting myself a story per day quota, which is the Jackson King form of a daily vlog. I am writing about 1,500-3000 words of a story from my past or an experience I have had. Not always “as it happened”, but real life inspired. The goal isn’t to write perfectly, but simply to write, publish and keep moving. Come along for the ride!
This brings us to the introduction post.
The phone buzzes at 6 AM. “Shit, did I set that?”, Francis exclaimed.
“Turn it off…”, she says. His beautiful daughter waking up to the blaring noise of the phone alarm. “Time to wake up sweetie, we have to be ready in an hour,” Francis said.
“Time to wake up sweetie, we have to be ready within an hour,” Francis said.
“Mmmm, okay.” she said as she slammed the door to the bathroom behind her. The sounds of water from a shower head hitting the ceramic tiles began to fill the apartment.
“Dad, where’s the toothpaste?”
“Where it should be: in the top drawer”
“It’s literally, like, never there”
“What is the point of checking if I know it isn’t going to be there?”
“That IS where it’s supposed to be”
She began to attack her father, “Over the past 20 days when I have been here it has only been in that spot once. Some other locations I have found it include the kitchen, the living room, and once in the car. I have no right to question why the toothpaste was there but right now I need the toothpaste.”
“I have taken your argument into consideration and with all my fatherly wisdom, come to a logical conclusion: check the top drawer”
It was in the top drawer.
“I put it there yesterday.”, he said, “But I have a question, why does it take women so long to get ready in the morning?”
“It takes time to look good, it’s like creating a work of art”
“I get that, but you can’t paint a work of art each morning. DaVinci only painted one Mona Lisa”
“Da Vinci painted for the pleasure of others. He took his talent and created something so people could stand in admiration. This is completely different”
“So you don’t paint for others?”
“No, I do this for myself”
“Let’s be real, it’s so cute boys ask you out.”
“I like to do makeup, whether cute boys ask me out or not is irrelevant”
“So you don’t want cute boys to ask you out?”
“Of course I do… Doesn’t every girl?”
“Exactly, what? Just because I enjoy the presence of boys, I must be wearing makeup for that purpose? Is every action I perform in the constant pursuit of cute boys? ”
“Okay, let me ask you this: if, and guys hated makeup, would you still wear it?”
“That’s an interesting thought. No… I wouldn’t. The requirement for attractive men in my life outweighs my desire to wear makeup. It doesn’t mean I wear makeup FOR them, it just means I know my priorities.”
“I don’t know, honey, I think that most of the desire to wear makeup is a part of our desire to consume. It also feeds into the desire for us to be accepted by others, which is what the make-up industry feeds into. That’s part of the problem with modern consumerism”
“You’re so philosophical, Dad”. The sounds of the shower stopped as she moved towards her bedroom.
“No honestly, it’s an industry with thousands if not millions of new products each year. Imagine if we all just accepted each other for who we are and loved each other unconditionally… Wouldn’t that be an interesting world?”
“I mean we speak of unconditional love as if it is some magical ideal to uphold but everything in nature points the other way. Evolution is based on us not wanting the thin fragile loser to procreate. If we all loved him and had his babies, the human race would fail. We are born to love the successful people.”
“I wouldn’t say love the successful as much as we respect the successful. For example, I don’t love my boss.”
“I’m speaking in a more romantic context. Although there is a component to love which demands respect. And you can’t have respect without fear. Love is really just a distorted version of fear.”
“I wouldn’t say love is the same as fear. I would say there is a thin line between them. Similar to how fear is a step away from ecstasy.”
“What.. that doesn’t make sense.”
“When we conquer a fear we are free from the constraints it placed on us and we are ecstatic as a result. They are opposites but one is the cause of the other. I think it is the same thing with love and fear. When we fall too deeply in love, we begin to fear the other leaving us, we fall into fear as a result of our love. Similarly in a deep state of fear we begin to love that which we are afraid of, for example when you break in a dog to loving you because of a fear and respect.”
“Well, what about the argument that dogs only love people because we feed them?”
“To see into a dogs mind would be an exciting thing, but even in times of need, you find dogs visiting the burial sites of their dead owners, or staying with someone even when they are homeless. A dog’s loyalty knows no bounds. If you want loyalty: get a dog.”
“A bit melodramatic”
“Well, I’m a divorced father fighting off a biased judicial system for his only daughter so she doesn’t have to live with her druggie mother 3 days a week.”
“I’ll give you this one”
There’s a knock on the door.
“I’ll get it,” said Francis.
At the door is a tall spectacled gentleman with a bright orange mustache.
He gleefully exclaimed, “Hello, Mr.Krank!”