Best Of: Unfinished Drafts
Dear Readers,
I hope you are still with me. If you are still with me, continue reading. It has been quite some time since I’ve broken the fourth wall. Rest assured, I am still with you, still writing, albeit less frequently. I hope you all are doing well in life’s various endeavors. If you aren’t, well then you should read my work. It won’t offer you any practical life advice. It just might distract you from the endless toil of existence.
The following post is a contribution to the April edition of the Soaring Twenties monthly Symposium, with this month’s theme being titled ‘Spring Cleaning’. Naturally, I have a panoply of unfinished drafts scattered amongst my digital and physical notebooks that I have no intention of ever finishing. I figured what better a time than Spring Cleaning to put those drafts on display and give them the life they never had a chance to live. It’s sort of like Make a Wish for my prose. Perhaps you might even think some of these drafts have merit and are worth pursuing further. I certainly don’t. In fact, after reading through some of the drafts posted below (as well as some other unposted ones that are simply too horrific to grace the public eye), I am reflecting on my past mental standing, and how I am not in prison or the funny farm today. Oh well. Life is funny.
Without further ado, here is a compilation of my favorite unfinished drafts, which will never be touched again. Enjoy.
Onwards,
Tony
Humble Wordsmith
Writer Boy
Has plenty of unfinished business
August 19, 2022
the decision to wear sunglasses in the club is not a decision, but rather a continuation of the ethos of the day. faded, jaded, optimistically cynical, and downright smug, you might think you are the cool guy, but in reality, you are deathly afraid of what lies behind each corner. you are hiding your face from the face of others, which in effect is hiding from the face of God. a sinner in a sea full of sinners, you projected tinted reflections to those who dare to look at you, and in your glossy lenses they can see their own reflections.
April 4, 2024
I used to walk to the neighborhood high school track on random weekdays and run sprints. There was nothing better to do; I had no job. I would run sprints until I was wet with sweat and vomiting my duodenum into the plastic trash can and the girls soccer team would ridicule me. I would walk home down the main strip around dinner time carrying my moistened shirt over my shoulder and the mothers of those soccer players would ogle me and cat call my naked fleshy body drunk off happy hour Sauvignon Blanc and stuffing their faces with fondue and crostini. I was outside the king’s gate. I was ripped. I was toiling.
To sprint is to accept the natural order and embrace entropy. Exercise is meant to be energizing, but sprinting is meant to be demoralizing. Sprinting is a young man’s game. Fitness is for longevity, sprinting is for stimulating the central nervous system beyond normal parameters; a test of fragility; a simulation of dire conditions. Will you melt down like a nuclear reactor and cause an international crisis?
May 26, 2021
The most effective way to develop an acute mental illness is to drive for a few hours with no music or radio (if you’re still listening to the radio then you likely already have a mental illness, so whatever I’m about to say doesn’t matter to you. Go back to throwing TNT poppers on anthills).
June 9, 2021
I love our company culture. Rocking the same rotation of Izod golf polos and khakis every single week will never grow old. Imagine having to wear a suit and tie to work! That could never be me. I will gladly take my middling salary and Nissan Altima in exchange for being able to dress like a mall kiosk salesman. What a life I live.
Business casual is the epitome of corporatism. It’s the TGI Friday’s of dress. It’s an over the pants handjob from your Catholic girlfriend at a matinee showing of The Lorax. There’s nothing that screams business casual more than heading straight from the office to happy hour to play Jenga and put on 2 pounds overnight from excessive IPA and cauliflower pizza consumption (just eat the real thing, it’s just as unhealthy).
June 10, 2021
Life isn’t hard.
Hop in a car. It could be a 1999 Honda Accord that’s a few inches of rust away from turning into a Flintstone’s vehicle, or a brand-new Lamborghini Aventador that you’re leasing for 2 grand a month in order to more effectively sell Gumroad courses. It does not matter.
Put on relaxing music. Something that elegantly cuts through the warm summer air, like a red-hot steak knife cutting through a room temperature stick of golden Irish Butter. The music must be blaringly loud – the point is not to quietly reflect, but to drown out all conscious thoughts and simply enjoy the only thing in this world you deserve to enjoy – life.
Drive without a destination in mind. Find the nearest countryside, and zoom through that like you’re in hour 23 of Le Mans.
June 10, 2021
There are a few distinct times I can recall in my life when I was scared shitless. There was the one time when I watched a Scooby-Doo movie at my cousin’s house. Years later my uncle called me a pussy for that. He was right, but he was also just mad he had to drive me home in the middle of the night.
July 14, 2022
Synth-wave blared out his windows as he cruised down the highway that ran adjacent to the river. It was loud enough to drown out the thudding noise coming from his trunk. He let out a smile, sipped his Watermelon White Claw, and took a drag of his American Spirit, the ones that come in the light blue box. Just a few more miles until closure, he thought. He pushed the pedal of his Silver Ford Taurus down a bit farther as he sped to his final destination.
December 30, 2021
Focus is overrated. My world doesn’t spin unless I’m being attacked from all angles.
December 5, 2021
Life moves fast, and sometimes we are in a pinch. It might be that you are running late for a date with the missus or a new fling, and you haven’t got the time
Perhaps you throw on some tropical house, to escape to a lush paradise in a far-off land, where the sweltering sun beats down on you like an alcoholic father-in-law after a long shift. The relaxing beats and steel drums transport you to your personal Shangri-La, and your imagination flows freely as the warm water hits your back. Steam builds
Or maybe you choose to brood over some Lana Del Rey as you reflect on your poor decisions and wonder if tonight will be déjà vu. Her melancholic delivery of tragic yet hopeful lyrics instill a deep feeling of mortality, and you realize the only thing left for you is praying for redemption, as you sip your whiskey neat. The steam fogs up the glass, both of your whiskey and the shower door, and soon your whole world is shuttered off. You wear your wounds on every surface of your aging body, but they are scabbed over, hiding them from the world to see.
June 27, 2021
Best time to commit crimes is lunch hour. Cops will be lethargic/have brain fog after eating McDonald’s and pulled pork.