Being Perfect Is So You

When someone posed the question, “How Could I Be Valued So Little”, I knew it was time to address the “Imperfection” in the room


You meant so little, because you failed to see the value of your existence without the validation of someone or something you felt was “better”.

The best prescription for this ailment is straight talk. A single dose of irrefutable experiential human truth ought to do the trick.

The concept that you must prove your worth to exist through the validation of others is simply irrelevant. There is no need to prove you should be here when you are already here.

The first point is counter-intuitive:

* you have the absolute right to exist because you do exist.

We displace the bandwidth of compassion using “replacements “, which delay self-acceptance of ourselves. Such “replacements” may be identified by oft-voiced, tell-tell signs in statements such as:

“Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans”,

This town sucks.

Somewhere else will see me for who I really am, deep down.

The next relationship is going to prove the others wrong.”

If I drop 20 pounds, I’ll be able to accept myself.”

I am great when they meet me. I am the life of the party, and super interesting, sometimes for years. Eventually, though, they will REALLY get to know me, and then, they won’t want to know me any more.”

Also deployed are “avoidances”, or “stalling measures”, often heard as:

“Getting ready…”, or,

“Not quite there yet…”

One of the most insidious and deadly, heartbreaking self-delusions is anything resembling the following:

I am an accident. I should have never been. Someone out there must save me.”

  • Le sigh…know I am sending air hugs, any thoughts, and every prayer. You know, the helpful reaching out only a powerless, yet impotent, curious stranger can be over social media.

Fair enough, I can tell you how I stopped the downward death spiral that seeking truth eventually always ends up being, or at the very least, begin to help “enlightenment” out the metaphorical door.

Seriously.

It isn’t a trick, and if it is, if it works for you like it did for me, who gives a damn?

Ready? Is your existential dark humor all set up because there be scary stuff ahead. Yes?

Good.

Here it is.

You are going to die.

Period.

I hate to be the one to break it to you, no one is getting out of life alive.

Let me know if you figure out the “One Way to Cheat Death” ultimate viral listicle, I could use the readership boost, otherwise, when you die, rich or poor, pretty or pretty ugly, you will you go through it alone, just like the rest of us.

Someone may be holding your young, or old hands, as you gasp out your last fetid smoker’s, or your minty fresh, dentist obsessed, flossers breath, but when we all finally get dragged in front of the final semester exam of life, we will be alone, trust me, no one is your friend when you ask “who wants to go to the morgue”. One of the few saving graces regarding mortality that I can look forward to is even Donald Trump hasn’t figured out how to troll my final experience, yet.

What does that mean?

That only a rare bird like myself could ever make comedy about a serious thought piece focused on the underlying reality that all of us must come to grips with. That naturally, some will taste better to the corpse bugs than others, and beyond that, no other writer will ever be able to originally use the phrase,

THE PURPOSE OF LIFE IS TO DIE.

and mean it in the most literal sense possible, while still pulling it off like a 1920’s literary gangster. Your welcome.

You see, I must know I always did my best in all situations in my life, given my experience, and the extent of my knowledge in each moment. My thoughts, my experiences, and my decisions are all that ever really matters for me in “the equation” that solves for the absolutely appalling, eternal lack of any knowable certainty regarding what comes after death, or exists prior to birth. Fortunately humor, even dark, twisted humor, is a big part of doing my best, because I accept the experience of death as the one thing I get to own so completely, it the closest I can ever hope to come to describing what the singularity of a black hole feels like in some small, unquantified way, while also permitting the invocation of the name, Niel DeGrasse Tyson in an article, with a straight face, and it actually mean something. Irregardless of whether it means anything to anyone other than me.

Who can expect more than my best? That is my ultimate safe zone! What will get me to Death’s Door without flipping out, isn’t the same as what will get you through it in peace. We each have our own death to prepare for.


When I was in college, a burglar who thought the house was empty kicked in the door, and was greeted by a naked me, wearing nothing but socks, with the shower running. He was so freaked out by my amazingly hot body and shocking good looks that he put a .38 in me and bolted. I guarantee you that scenario was not even something I could conceive of, to even take a place in line to be the furthest thing from my mind, ever. I would have at least put on shorts if I had known there was a possibility of being on the breaking evening news!

I share this story to illustrate how strange my next point will be. It was so beyond my comprehension, for me, at first, to comprehend why on Earth my back door was flying in off its hinges, while I stood nearby dressed only in my socks with no enemies to speak of at all, and become a star on my local news channel, as it will be for most people to begin considering the idea that they are, contrary to conventional wisdom, actually perfect.

Stay close for the logic here, ok?

“ARE YOU UNIQUE.”

Is there another you out there in the universe? A copy, exact in every detail, all the way down to your quarks, or are you the only “you”?

If your answer is anything other than “yes, I am unique”, I have some ocean front property in Kansas my friend Drew is selling, send me a private message to sort out your interest.

Otherwise, by definition, if you are ‘unique’, then no one and nothing can do YOU, better than you.

IN FACT, YOU DO YOU PERFECTLY.

Image for post
Image for post

Seriously, it’s ok to be perfectly you.


Take a moment. Marinate in it for as long as you need. I have been stewing on it for years now, and yes, I if I had to learn to look at the face above and LIKE IT, then this will all be easier for everyone, if you start to do the same with your own.

I am PERFECTLY ME. In form and function, I am the entire kit and caboodle. I am the only ME. Now. Doing what only I can do. Period.

Don’t let anyone tell you different, or tell you that you need to be like this person, or more like that person, or that no one, or only one has ever been perfect. That is a self-deluding lie.

My advice comes straight from, well, there is no need to say, “straight from the devil”. Fact is, no devil had ANYTHING on our own ability to self-deceive. We don’t need a Satan. He couldn’t screw us better than we screw ourselves, out of fear, self-loathing, envy, greed, money, sex, drugs, and Teletubbies.


There are a lot of things around that can make the fear of death go away. Meanwhile, an idea of what comes after death removes our responsibility to really see what is happening around us, and who benefits from our labor, and mindless, numbed slumber.

It’s time. A part of me (feels like it is a big part), wishes there were more time to watch TV, play games, be silly, and forgetful… to stay children a little longer, yet it is time to WAKE UP!

Us just accepting ourselves, man, can you picture it?

Imagine everyone finally giving themselves a hug, and accepting AND seeing what has been going on while we slept? I hear a “John Lennon” song in the background. There is no need to get puffed up with any indignities or about the injustice of anything really.


Accept that everything simply is. Right now, everyone and anything dear to you should be near to you.

Right now, I have you listening to and hearing me. You’re present. No bell or whistles are necessary, huh?

Imagine that!

Before that bed starts calling out to us again, how about let’s accept at least one truth. Start building firmly on that as a species.

Then we can talk about what does or doesn’t need to be done, eh? We have to get everybody awake before we can really assess. I would like to build my house on firm, logical, solid philosophical granite, instead of this sand we all seem to be precariously perched on.

WAKE UP! It’s time.

Respectfully,

A. Yobi Blumberg

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You can see the first time I put this all into words not long ago, here.

Stay Safe, Start Liking the Face you see in the mirror, warts and all, and Be.

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A. 'Yobi' Blumberg, YobiWorks Studios

Written by

Birth is a life sentence on death row, yet we are all connected. I am a Pilgrim, Trail Finder, Listener, Once Broken, Son of The Man, Prodigal Son, & Last Found

The ESC Hatch

The Truth IS, we are ALL Gonna Die. KNOWING that, is NOT ACCEPTING! FACE IT. Two-thirds of EVERYONE cannot seem to be able to accept the ABSOLUTE UNCERTAINTY of anything after our death, and THAT is why 2/3 of EVERYTHING is JACKED UP! Join US to get TRUTH ACCEPTED!

A. 'Yobi' Blumberg, YobiWorks Studios

Written by

Birth is a life sentence on death row, yet we are all connected. I am a Pilgrim, Trail Finder, Listener, Once Broken, Son of The Man, Prodigal Son, & Last Found

The ESC Hatch

The Truth IS, we are ALL Gonna Die. KNOWING that, is NOT ACCEPTING! FACE IT. Two-thirds of EVERYONE cannot seem to be able to accept the ABSOLUTE UNCERTAINTY of anything after our death, and THAT is why 2/3 of EVERYTHING is JACKED UP! Join US to get TRUTH ACCEPTED!

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