#40 The Futile by Say Anything
“Shit! Nothing makes sense, so I won’t think about it. I’ll go with the ignorance. Eat, sleep, fuck and flee; in four words that’s me. I am full of indifference.”
This is an extremely bold statement, but I’m going to go ahead and say that those are my favorite first 29 words of any song ever. It’s weird that I like those lyrics so much, so much to the point that they pretty much single handedly got this song into the top 40, because usually lyrics I like as much as I like these I relate to more. I love screaming “shit”, often because nothing makes sense, but all I do is think about it. And I’ve made it a point not to go with the ignorance. And sure I eat and sleep a lot, my weight would suggest one more than the other – that sounds like a fat joke but it’s actually the opposite, I’m pretty skinny, but I make up for the lack of eating with sleep, in my life I probably average above ten hours of sleep per night, and sadly that’s not a joke – but I’d have to replace fuck with masturbate, and then I guess after masturbating I flee from the horrid stench, which I plan to bottle and sell in Wal-Mart under the title of “Loser: The cologne for the man who knows he’s not getting laid tonight, so why even bother?” And even though I feel indifferent a lot I’ve said on multiple occasions that all I do is care, and that’s pretty accurate.
I think the reason I love these lyrics so much is because at times that’s the person I wish I was. I don’t really want to be that person, but at times it’d be nice to not care, and not really try, and just go through life’s basic motions.
Random thought I don’t remember how I got to based on what I just wrote and where it was going: About the fleeing, I think that would be a hard part. Hell, the emotionless fucking would be difficult too. I imagine myself coming home with a girl who without saying is drunk – because she must be if she came home with me – and as she’s tearing off my clothes trying to get at my adequates – I know some people refer to their naughty parts as their goods, but I’m realistic, it’s just adequate – I’d be like, “nah baby, let’s just cuddle.” And she’d stop stunned, “Don’t you wanna fuck the living shit out of me?” And I’d reply, “Why? In the morning after I make you breakfast and send you on your way home I can just jerk off. But it’d be nice to cuddle with something other than my baby blanket for a night.” And she’d say, “Who’s that guy you came with to the club?” And I’d say, “Oh Nathan, why?” And she’d say, “Will he fuck me?” And I’d say, “At this point he’ll fuck anything.” And she’d say, “Give me his number.” And I’d weep.
Little addendum to that for anyone curious: Nathan is no longer at the point where he’ll fuck anything (so stop trying, Bonnie). He’s gotten some action and with the desperateness out of the way he can now be more selective in his mating choices, and oddly enough women appear to be more attracted to that.
That’s it for this. I’m going to go write some sad stuff somewhere else, because yet again I am depressed on this long night, and I would not like those thoughts to be part of this post.
“Yeah the futile, the futile, it outweighs the beautiful. Futile, the futile, it outweighs the beautiful.”
I feel that way often. Very often. But sometimes, albeit rarely, I think about how happy I’ve been, and I don’t care how futile it seemed, and how futile it might be, it was worth it to reach that happiness, and it’s worth it to try to get there again.
“Love! I shall not love, yet I’ll still sing about it.”