Clone and brain dumps

Latest Rick and Morty episode posed the clone question. Is Beth the real Beth or the clone Beth?

Now before I write this blog post, I need to say that I should be writing. I should soooo be writing. And I will. I will. I will. Let's just consider this warm-up. Write the edge off. 

How would you all know I was a clone and not the real deal?

I guess it all comes down to those things I consider flaws…which I guess, aren’t really flaws if that’s what makes me authentic.

1.     My language cleans up. My metaphors are no longer based on disgusting imagery like bodily fluids or farts or really anything that would delight an eight-year-old boy. I’ll start using language that’s all pretty and poetic. Like if I use more than one adjective to describe a noun, or stop using dirty curse words or start talking properly instead of a Valley girl/Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle baby that seems like she’s read a lot of books? Yeah, I’m a fucking clone.

2.     I become comfortable meeting strangers. If I’m all smooth and say not a single awkward thing? Yeah, I’m a clone because the real me is weird. I’ve worn the weird crown since toddler hood. Most people don’t know this because they think I’m an extrovert (actually, I think I’m an ambivert), but I’m really shy.  So, I make goofy videos but meeting someone face to face? I sorta clam up b/c I’m so unsure of what to say.

3.     My sense of style changes from what it is now, which is a female MadHatter. There’s flower crowns and ruffles and fake lashes. It all adds to the impression that I’m fun, and people are drawn to all the bright colors. But, Jesus, I don’t actually want them to TALK to me! Do you know how hard it is to get out of my own head? It’s fun in there. The real world is...not what with small talk and comparing to conformity. 

4.     My online pics start to look artistic and magazine worthy. I have seen so many amazing IG accounts with pretty pictures: spiral staircases, those weird angel wing ones, the pretty table setting one, the album cover ones. Meanwhile, I’m busy posting random pictures: videos, endless selfies (with and without makeup or with face masks), and usually something to do with my animals or my garden. It’s understandable why people try to make their social media brand look so perfect. I mean, it’s controllable, and who doesn’t want to give a good impression to the world? I guess, maybe me? Without meaning to, I wanted anyone who glimpsed into my life to realize I was being real.

5.      I ran out of clues so I asked Paul. He said, “I’d ask you something like ‘What did we eat on that first night to Paris? (Lambchops)’ or ‘What was the name of the drugstore we went to in Hawaii for the guava juice? ( ABC store) or ‘What was the first thing Pan did when we got her? (She bit my toe so hard it bled).

I should really write now. I can do this. This is doable. 

Sigh* let's reframe this. I want to do this to achieve that state of FLOW. That's the goal for today. Not to be this amazing whatever I think I should be. Let me just write and have fun and lose myself into this activity. I like doing this. Remember? I like doing this. This is my version of fun. 

Told you I was weird.