Today a dark and mysterious internet website was decoded for us. Yes, we learned the five different types of posts that angsty twenty-somethings are either writing or reading, and it was not pretty. It can time to process hard information like this, time and practice. Fortunately for us, one commenter has provided us with a sample how-to-Thought-Catalog post.
How to be an Annoying Contributor to Thought Catalog
Contemplate the physics of a gin and tonic; go ahead, I'll wait. Sweat beads and bubbles, the effervescent gravity and stunning naturalism (the evolution of thirst). Coffee-stained diploma because I never wanted it framed; zoos always seem less real: a simulacrum of identity, education behind the glass doesn't go beyond.
Dinner tonight down the street and right now I can practically taste the lime juice Sara uses to acidify her proteins; not for nothing is her last name Larousse. Coin the phrase "Laroussian" but don't cage the significant, because like I said before a framed referent isn't experiencing. Gin and tonic contemplated I mix another; quinine glows in the ultraviolet and now so do I.
Glowing-not blinking, not that cagey sodium light, not that phosphorescent burn-real glowing, the hum of light, the balance of the physical world and the unseen spectrum while I meditate on metempsychosis. Essays don't write themselves but we all agree words are deeds and deeds have life (the evolution of thought). It's alive, I shout, but I'm too wise to laugh at myself-if only Sara were here she'd acidify that irony. My lips curl up and the bitter quinine rushes my senses. I submit: submit to it all, but first submit to this, my Thought Catalog.
Devices buzz; lime juice is on and cold cerveza replaces the bitter certainty of my colonial cooler.
What a day of learning it has been for us all. Go forth children, and spread your knowledge to ends of the earth and beyond.
[Image via Shutterstock]