Writing With a Broken Pencil, Part 2

Okay, so I never did end up buying crack, and I don’t really know any drug-dealers. Whatever. Ya gotta fancy up the writin’ every once in a while with some tall tales, just for the fun of it.

I did end up doing the rest of the pointless things I said I was gonna do.

Let’s consider them for a moment — from the perspective of people in this world that always need to accomplish something, achieve a goal, or reach whatever plateau they’ve become fixated upon.

Just so you’re fairly warned, there’s the possibility of hypocritical ramble ahead, too. Deal with it…


A little backstory first…

One reason I’ve introduced this animal back into my diet has to do with a quest for self-sufficiency. Perhaps slaughtering animals for food isn’t the most ideal thing in the world, but we hardly live in an ideal world. If the indigenous tribes who wandered these lands before us could demonstrate a balanced co-existence with the animals that sustained them, I’m sure I can as well.

Whether I’m killing lettuce, or catching a fish, I’m still a murderer. Over-the-top spiritual douchebags never want to acknowledge the basic truth that they still kill shit to survive. They never consider all the rodents or insects that get stacked up as collateral damage to their “enlightened” dietary lifestyles. With the exception of Twinkies, every morsel of food we eat has been alive somewhere along the way — there’s no way to get around killing something for sustenance unless you learn to survive on prana and rainwater. Even then, you’re probably still wiping out new generations of microbes that only want the same opportunity to thrive as you do, despite your considerations of them being inconsequential.

Just because broccoli doesn’t cry out as you sever it from the plant, doesn’t mean it can’t feel pain. The plant would prefer to live intact, I’m fucking sure of that. In fact, broccoli is the pre-flowered bulk that hasn’t yet reached seed-bearing stage, so people munching on it are into the equivalent of eating plant veal. Fucking monsters!!

I don’t know why I felt the need to justify eating small amounts of flesh again, but the deed is done. Ironically it had nothing to do with why I went fishing today.

My goal was far more pointless — to stand under a blue sky, radiant sun, and revel in an hour or two by the river. There’s an underlying meditative quality about repeatedly casting a line into the waters that most fisherpeople probably never consciously acknowledge, and likely can’t put into words. It calms the mind and soothes the soul. Mine, anyway. I guess I can’t speak for anyone else.

I caught nothing this day. And that’s why it was so perfect. The exercise of throwing a lure in the water over and over produced none of the results that others might consider their reason for engagement.

From the standpoint of someone wanting to eat fresh fish, the time I spent was futile. From the standpoint of someone wanting to engage in an activity of joy, my time was glorious. Absolutely pointless, but fucking glorious.


Considering I’m scared shitless every time I solo, one might perceive my participation in this activity as ridiculous. As I fired up my engine today, I knew there was nowhere I needed to go. I had no destination awaiting me, and no plan of action after leaving the confines of the harbour.

That’s why it was perfect. Completely pointless, and perfect.

You might say that floating under the sun was part of my agenda, that getting some much needed practice was part of my motivation, or mention a possible dozen other “reasons” for doing what I did.

But you would be wrong. My only thought was to go sailing. Just for the fun of it. So that’s what I did. And you know what? It fucking rocked. It was pointless, and it rocked.


You wanna talk about an exercise in futility? Most people would consider running as a form of torture. People do it to stay in shape, burn calories, or test their levels of endurance, pushing personal limits as far as they can. But not a lot of them think of it as fun.

I’ve gone running in the past for all those reasons. Not today though. My only thought was to strip half naked and go for a jaunt through the woods, just for the pure pleasure of it. And I did. The sun was shining, the flowers were fragrant, and little critters were scampering about everywhere. What could be more perfect? I didn’t care one iota how far I was running, what health benefits were being accrued, or anything that had to do with weight loss. I wanted to do it, I did it, and I loved it.

It was also completely fucking pointless to further any fate, destiny, or meaning I might have chosen to impose on my life. This one was about rock’n’roll, and comic books, and bubble gum. Hoo hoo hoo…

Crack Smoking

Nah, I never got to that, but I did substitute a beach walk instead. The weather’s finally warmer, but the water’s frigid. As I splashed my feet through the waves, I thought to myself, “I’d love to jump in, but it’s too cold. It’ll warm up soon enough, I guess…”

Quickly catching myself living in an imaginary future, ignoring my immediate, more important whims, an awesome thing happened — I no longer needed to think. I dove in like some retard in a polar bear club lacking basic common sense. Within seconds though, that cool refreshing water forced a giant smile to my face. I scanned the 3-mile shoreline for even the slightest hint of another human. Not one. This glorious beach and body of water were mine today, all on an impulse of fun.

Icing on the Cake

To end a kick-ass day, the fair weather treated me to a spectacular sunset — a dynamic spectacle that could never be captured in a single digital image. The best I can share with you is a watered down experience of a light show that blew my mind.

Though you may consider it to be impossible to live footloose and fancy-free every day, there’s also nothing to stop you from thinking, “Hmm. What if it is possible?”

Everything’s possible, though most people would rather believe otherwise. Why? I’m not sure. But I do know that once we own our limitations, our limitations own us.

So whatever might be on your agenda today, give a moment’s consideration to the things in life that make you feel happy deep down in your core. If you don’t have the opportunity to experience them today, don’t sweat it. But the more you realize how ultimately meaningless your life is, the more time you’ll begin investing your free moments in those pointless activities you love.

That’s when you’ll start learning what real freedom is about. If you want to be a slave to destiny, that’s your call. Just know that the free-air of pointlessness is only a breath away.

What was it Nellie Mandela said?

“There is no passion to be found playing small — in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living. There is no such thing as part freedom.”

Amen, bro.

Break out the crack…

What's on your mind?