Underside - Pity Parties vs Perseverance
Let’s talk Pity. Pity is the act of evoking distress in anther person through involving them in empathising with the misfortune of another. Making someone else feel bad because you feel bad. Hey! Why should you be the only one feeling like crap when you can spread that shit around and infect every happy person you see with your empty melancholy. That’s why I like to throw Pity Parties.
Pity parties are the best! If you are having a bad day, bring on the pity party! Sometimes I just ring people up and do a lot of sighing and moaning just for pity. When you see someone in the street; slouching and pouting is bound to get you a pity-hug, or even just a pity-pat on the head.
I like to send out invites to people for my pity parties, they are renowned. BYO carrots and sadness. I could get Paris Hilton to appear at my pity parties, but she’d have to do it for free, being out of pity n all.
Sometimes all you need is to get a little pity to make the day better. I like to walk around with an eye patch, that way you can purposely barge into people, then they’ll start yelling at you for being a rude jerk, but then you turn around and show ‘em your eye patch from that “nasty possum fight incident” and it’s okay to be a jerk. Pity makes it okay to behave like an arse.
People will give you anything if they pity you. “I was abused”. Here have $10. However, if you weren’t technically abused you could run into some obstacles with getting the pity you truly deserve.
“When I was little, I used to hang out with these older kids, and they’d put me in a sleeping bag with a cat, a bird, some little kid, then they’d suspend me in mid-air whilst they vacuumed around me and strummed on the guitar. Let me tell you something: cats do not like any of these ingredients whatsoever, so combine them and you’ve got one angry cat and one seriously scratched up loser who was tricked into the bag in the first place.”
Yeah that story is great. Gets you out of so many things: rehab – sorry I’m addicted to drugs; I used to get the ‘bag of terror’ treatment as a kid. People will not only forgive your dastardly junky behaviour, they will pity you and probably buy you things and give you pity hugs to cheer you up!
Pity is the best. Pity is the currency of life that runs the world, and my cup runneth over.
1 part pyjamas
2 parts Rock of Love marathon
1 part giant bag of weed
3 parts pizza
Why do I need to have a pity party when I can silently dwell on self-destruction- Wallowing in your own stench. Wallowing in your own patheticness. Just wallowing. I don’t think people wallow enough these days. Everyone’s trying to become a better person, see the light side of things, choose the right path, not disappoint. There’s nothing wrong with being a disappointment. You don’t have far to fall when you’re already at the bottom. You’ve got to persevere with your pitifulness.
People put too much emphasis on going for success on a major scale. Why is this- Why can’t you be happy with success in the small areas-
I will eat anything. I eat leftover pizza out of my garbage. I eat expired dairy. I’ll eat a bag of cheese shapes and down that with a red wine just to see the pretty purple colours come vomiting back up again. That’s an achievement. Who else can say they created the colour mauve today- Who else can say they defied the science of salmonella and lived to see another day- I can.
You’ve got to go one step further, to move beyond the pity party and into the arena of perseverance at any cost.
So what if the war in Iraq never ends- So what if petrol never falls below $2 a litre. What do I care- I fucking roller-skate to work.
So what if the carbon footprint left behind by our generations ruin the world to a point where our own children grow up in biodomes in the desert, never knowing the feel of wind in their hair and fresh water on their legs- I’m pretty sure I’m sterile anyway. Well I will be after I finish standing in front of the microwave for 45 mins.
I’m proud to be a fuck-up. I tried. I failed. I wear the same pair of jeans everyday. I wash my hair when people complain about new species of insects crawling out and biting them. I don’t need to get dressed up for the high school reunion cos they can read all about me in the ’10 most wanted’ list.
I don’t need your freakin’ pity. I don’t want your handouts. I don’t want your condescending “hope it works out next time” garb. Keep your pity to yourself. There’s nothing worse than having to listen to the farce of a faked pity laugh, when some poor sap is telling their stupid story of the day for the 10 billionth time. No one wants a pity shag either.
This life is not about pity. It’s about perseverance. Having the balls to get through the bad times and come out a stronger person. Sure you might lose your marbles in the process, but you could always write a book about it. Just don’t go buying a copy out of pity, alright-!