It’d been quite a long time since a single grouping of words, not qute a phrase had caught my attention and focus. Instant gratification… I remembered it from the past, but I’d not thought about it again in relation to myself and my new journey to either self discovery or madness.
In much the same way one single person calling me OCD made me obcess about whether I was actualy obcessive AND compulsive rather than just obcessive, I started to think about what that term meant, and where it came into my story.
I am most certinly have chosen or fallen into a lifestyle of instant gratification. As I write, I have to admit I can’t really comprehend what it would be like to not be. I’m not even sure what the opposite is, because while trying to figure it out, I changed focus and started eating a few more Hershey’s kisses.
Is it even possible to not wan to choose instant gratification over any alternatives? I suppose I could imagine specific times when one may be wise enough or experienced enough to know the extended gratification option is the better choice but I believe every–
I choose to stop and start again.
I remember when I first found out, or at least re-learned for the first time, than Pride was a deadly sin. It upset me, because the rediscovry came months into my writings about how Pride was a petrsonal thing that was easier to maniplulate and use than self esteme, and it could be a tool to recovery. Once could hate themselves and still find pride in the specifics.
Pride can trump a lot of negtativity, but as I continued I realized – likealmost everything in life, they key is in the numbers. If one becomes too prideful, it’s ugly. My “Egantism” self shows and the smiles you seek from others for a job well done turn to ruin.
Anaology examples are easy to spot in both the shows I watched last night on NetFlix, while binging from my Hospital bed at 3am.
Every lesson suddenly seemed to have that amendment. Be prideful, but not TOO Prideful.
Be blank, but not too much blank.
Does this apply to today’s topic? Is there too much instant gratification?
As it turns out, I’ve been writing about this concept since the start, but from the other side of that wall. I’ve been writing about ignoring the bad things in life, and just tossing them over my imaginary wall called tomorrow, or perhaps more appropriatly, the wall of Later.
When I would write about the concept of “the bad stuff” it was easy for me to justify ignoring concequences simply by making an incorrect assumption or two, and letting future Jeff worry about it.
“If it’s going to be bad anyway, why not let it be bad later”.
Somebody else has a bumper sticker selling at the Exon staion off the highway, Why do today, what you can put off till tomorrow” right next to the older one that says the opposite.
The logic (interally at least) is that suffering is something best done in a binge, like Netflix. In those cases where you believe you’ll have to live through any variation of hell at some point, it seemed to make sence that the difference or duration of that hell isn’t significantly changed by the timeline. In desperation, my mind even may be so bold as to say; If I deal with this hell today, instead of eating more chocolate and going to see a movie, then I’ll probably hve to deal with that eventual hell later on AS WELL.
Dealing with it now, may actually double the amount of hell, or at the least, have doubled the number of sessions.
Solved. Procrastination is perfect.
Then, as time passes and my love for Hershey’s kisses has reached a $30 a week addiction, but my taxes remain unpaid, The balance starts to be off.
The wall of Later develops a slight vibration, as if the one side has more to hold than the strength of the wall.
I start to fear… my procrastination has accumulkated so many “I’ll get to it later” content, somethig has got to blow.
You might know it as stress or anxiety. As you keep tossing tsks of less excitement over the wal for “Later Jeff” to deal with, you start to feel anxious.
Your dosage may vary.
I start again.
Somebody told me recently I need instat gratification and my very first thought was… yes… and? Why would I not seek out the path, or option, or task of most reward?
I might die from a giant bell falling on my head tomorrow while painting the chapel when I could have been driving racecars at the track.
Through my entire life, I could scan back mentally and see this person was indeed correct. I likedinstant gratification, and in fact, I have no problem saying that, and even occasionally complianing that the instant gratification I’ve paid for isn’t instat enough.
You mean I have to boil the water for instant coffee? That’s not instant at all.
As the days passed, and I write more journal entries, I now have a new label for some of my actions. When evaluating choices from my past, I can see where a 2 second delay might have allowed me to choose more wisely.
ding. The conections bell and suddenly another billion neurons touch and a whole new understanding of me appears in my head far far faster than I can write them down.
Various Connections to previous thoughts, now tagged with INSTAT GRATIFICATION label.
1. The version of Jeff I’ve previously described where I am the opposte to that guy who’s good at everthing. The failures I’ve been relating to being magically bad at things like sports, or games, or art or building, or fitness.
When viewed from today’s enlightended perspective, I can see that my personal choices are more to blame than I’d given credit.
My failures in these tasks was often at least partially attributed to picking the option forninstant gratification over the patiennce option.
Why did one chicken get hit by a car and another one not get hit, while crossingthe road?
The one that needed instant gratification didn’t look both ways. Left, right, left was too much time wasted. Chickens ain’t got time for dat!
(insert either the chicken head video where the human moves the chicken all ariound, but the chicken wil always look forward – and then use the Aint nobody’s got time for that meme Bitmoji as the Featured image)
Lesson: Many, if not most of my failures come from the need for instant gratification. The chickens that don’t peck and grab at the first option presented might beat you to your goal and get to the other side.
Community Anaolgy Fables: The turtle crosses the finish line before the hare.
2. This blog.
Who does this? A first draft blog? That’s crazy. Instant gratification… Write it, wreap the feelings of joy and success. Collect the pride points and I’m already thinking about my next blog.
Meanwhile, my turtle chicken halfbreed counterpart has edited his blog 6 times, re-arranged portions, added a level of Star Trek and Bible analogy stories to each of their examples, and released their first book, which is now a bestseller on the New York Time list. It even includes a forward by Steve Martin and several side stories about how crazy the quantities are that you need to sell to constitute a best seller in the cateogory of self help books for Chickens and Tutles.
He even inspired a children’s book called Why did the Turtle Cross The road?
(Apparently it’s not yet been released as te turtle is currenly in his shell on the yellow line and hasn’t gotten across the road fully yet.)
I have not read it, but at the track side post crossing interview, I hopenthat turtle has better advice than; “Slow and stead wins therace” because that would not only be anti-climactic, but also a line I always contested. The Hare may lose therace, but he may also be the one with a sweet stero system, a new car and as many endoresement deals as the Turtle in the end.
A lot of people had great success being second on American Idol. Clay Aieken was all about the hair.
I seem to have meandered off topic.
Ding. Pride slipping. REality distractions. As I so often do, I peaked, lost it and now want to bail on this blog, eat a Hershe’s kiss and start the next one.
3. This is good enough- now lets go….
That is a line you’ll often hear spoken by my people. There is no instant gratification beyond that moment when you can see what you were trying to do, and yiu can justify abandonment with whatever excuse, and I move on.
The Jeff. The bell in my head dings and I hear; NEEEXT!
This is good enough. That’ll do. It’s enough so that people will see what I was trying to say or do.
Analogy Fable: Three litle pigs.
Hey pigs! Come live with me in my house. I just whipped it up to protect us.
It’s actually a better analogy if all three pigs are making their own homes simultaniously and the straw house is done before 4pm so pig one considers himself the winner. He has a roof and is inside watching Babe on demand before anyone else.
After it’s desruction he isn’t invited to share the room in his neiughbours wood shack, but he has to ask. Please! Please!
Repeat to House 3 a day later, which really sucks because 3 pigs living in a hopuse made for one is never a great place to find yourself, especially since Brick House pig doesn’t even have HD and won’t watch that BABE shit.
He watched the Turtle races on ESPN42 with colour comentary by the Hare and Clay Aieken.
My brain has enjoyed Instant Gratification for a while and despite an oxygen enhanced dream about 3 pigs living unhappily in a brick 3 story house all not talking to each other being cute, I’m not going to give up easily.
My defence voice speaks; May I present my first witness for the blame; A.DD.
It continues; I am not conditioned to wait before I choose. My brain surfs on the edge of now and sometimes the forks in the current river need choice in the NOW.
It refers to my A.DD and the idea that when I come to the broad’s edge, I begin to cross rather than waste time loking left, right left because if I do, there is a very good chance that one of those three glances will contain something more shiny than whatever is on the other side of the street, and I’ll never return here again, instead pursuing the squirel on this side that taunted me when I looked left that second time.
I think I’ve lost perspective again. My writing is on that edge of now and I am getting joy as I type each paragraph, but the second voice knows it’ll actually read like a piece of shit to the visitor.
It needs an editor. It needs a second, third, maybe 30th draft.
Fuck it. Hire a turtle with my style to do all that. I have an idea for a blog about belches to start.
Alas, there is no turtle alive that thinks like me. This will never be a book, or a lecture tour. It’s not a good self help article if I’m not even helping myself to my –advice. To my rants.
Ahhhh… it’s good enough
No, not really. It has good potential.
Then I relabel it mantally as practice, or as an early stage of grwoth and accept it’s not a success to be shared, but just for me, and if I enjoyed writing it, I can abandon it and start burping.
I refram procrastination as “incomplete” just like my teachers all used to in school. Not a pass, but not a fail.
In the worlds of a close friend I’ve known for years and just met yesterday; I am one weird guy.
Jeff run – (belch)
If you’re reading this as anything but the first draft, written on a real keyboard without the aid of any spellchecking at all, then I have won again by doing the wrong thing. If you are reading this as a polished final somewhere then I either found a way to locate and finance a turtle editor, or I smartened up after some additional discoveries and came back for the good parts. You ight find the first draft version so colosolly different as to be entertaining and educational.
My usual method of just re-writing anotherfirst draft after another until one is #shareworthy will only work so long.
But that’s LATER JEFF’s problem.
Singing; “Always moving forward, because we can’t find reverse”
There are no revisions for this post.