Welcome to the Colony of Losers: Day 1

Posted on | March 26, 2010 | 12 Comments

This is my first blog post. This may be obvious to you, as FaceBook or Twitter has not alerted you about any previous posts. Though it is possible I had another blog under an imaginative name like sadistic butterfly 7219 and deleted it upon its discovery by the nudist colony workers I happen to be employed by. But for now assume that I am not being chased by hundreds of very cold nudists and that there was no blog before this one.

Consider this day one and know that I am glad you are with me. Even if I don’t like you, I am happy that you’re reading this. I expect our estrangement comes from a misunderstanding and maybe these words might help us bridge the gap.

The journey ahead is perilous and may involve clothes.

Different costumes to fit different days, different scripts for different plays. My nudist colony days are far behind me and all evidence of sadistic butterfly 7219 has disappeared into an electronic past that may or may not exist.

I approach my 26th birthday. I have no idea where I am going in my life. I take comfort that pretty much everyone I know feels the same way. The question isn’t really if you are fucked but more if you realize it.  Either you are settling into the adult world, cleaning the piss off your face, working those bottom rung positions until your asshole is loose enough that it doesn’t hurt anymore when you get fucked by your bosses or you are stranded on the outside looking in.

The question is what stage of feeling fucked you are at.

Do you have a degree yet? Are you working towards it? Does the light at the end of that long tunnel of education make you feel like you might just have a seizure? Are you buying a house that you don’t want and will never be able to pay off? Do you have kids? Are you in love and ready to fight for it? Or are you lonely and hoping that tomorrow will change that?  Wherever you are now I bet it’s not easy.

This blog is for people looking for those answers on the quest to slowly realize there aren’t any. The world is an economic depression, prospects are bleak, reaching the point where we won’t have to strive endlessly to fall a respectful distance short of our parent’s success is a long time away.

A Chinese woman lectured me over Moo Shu Pork about how I should live with my parents until I get married.

North American custom dictates you leave your parents home as soon as possible. As a result a lot of money is spent on rent, bills and being as childish as possible to prove that you can take care of yourself. When you wake up, hungover and holding a degree you usually have a lot of debt and a strange hope that the world will continue to look after you. That you’re old enough to go to grown up parties in your kid’s clothing. Unfortunately the reality is that even your parents are scrambling to keep their jobs.  That they are being downsized and more and more business are closing their doors. Soon they won’t be rich enough to give you your allowance and they may have no room left in their basements for you to build a dream home.  The bright future you were promised might just turn out to be an advertising slogan.

I live in a colony of dreamers who are waking up to the day when those dreams come in contact with reality.  My assumptions are being tested and my dreams and fears lay in the balance. My best friends are artists, intellectually over qualified for the opportunities that lay before them, disgusted that all the promised acclaim has become jobs where they feel more like children than gods.

The learning process in the next few years will include more humiliation than revelation. I know this and have made my peace with it. Some may go back for their second degrees. Some may struggle to get their first, burdened by the weight of student debt and the terrible and honest fact that while University degrees don’t buy you a place in the adult world they do make it easier to get jobs that could pay you enough that you could afford to go to University to figure this out for yourself.

The lucky ones got their university degrees and in ten years might work off that student mortgage, paying for their lease on a lucky life they led for too little time and will have to pay off for far long too.  Many of the most courageous people I know weren’t as lucky as I am. Like many Western children, I lived off of my parents even if I didn’t live in their home.  My friends who didn’t have this privilege either didn’t make it through school or face a $100,000 debt.  The tragedy is that most of them should not be working 9-5.

I live in the presence of geniuses. Waitresses with singing voices that could bring tears to your eyes. Poets and rappers who should be traveling the world, knocking people unconscious with the weight of their hearts and the brilliance of their words. Brilliant cooks and bakers who can’t afford to start up their own businesses or go to school to hone their craft. One of the best minds of our generation sells luxury cars. Another is 26 and is on his way to his first ulcer, as he succeeds and becomes a King in the world of crap.   I know I am not alone. If you are lucky you are surrounded by people like my friends, who dedicated a lot of time to fucking up enough to learn something about themselves. Perspective don’t come cheap and unfortunately doesn’t pay that much. Whether you are dying a little bit and succeeding, eating your meals of shit, or you are struggling to get by, this blog is for you.  Like me, you deserve better.

My goal with this blog is to say fuck it.

No one gets to tell me if I am going to be a writer. I’m writing right now and I’m only going to get better. No one gets to tell my friends that their dreams are not going to come true.  Fuck history, fuck reality. These pages are my history book. I’m going to make sure you know about the people who inspire me in my life. As the years go by, we are going to grow up and you are going to watch us.

Check in to this blog in the next couple of days. I’m going to post snippets of that book I’ve told you I have been working on and poems and songs and let you into the life of Michael Gray Kimber, the bold, the beautiful, the baffled. If you are a publisher and want me to make rich feel free to do so. My email is Michael.g.Kimber@gmail.com.  Tell your friends, the Colony of Losers is fucked but we’re going to make you love it.

Welcome to the Colony of Losers, a world of quarter life crises, anxiety, depression and the friends and the failures on the way to your future. This is the story of Michael Kimber’s panicked fall into adulthood.

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Comments

12 Responses to “Welcome to the Colony of Losers: Day 1”

1. Jennica Lou
   March 27th, 2010 @ 12:25 am

   on behalf of all the members of the colony, well: … someone had to say it.
   good work as always, michael kimber. looking forward to more more more.

2. nicksteeves
   March 27th, 2010 @ 12:25 am

   I’m left completely depressed after reading this.. which I think means that I get the point of it. The way you describe your life is bascially my worst nightmare as to what could happen to me when I graduate university.

   After 4 years of learning things of little value to me I thought that I was cynical , but obviously I haven’t experienced this rock bottom that’s laying in wait in the real world.

3. Caitlin McGuire
   March 27th, 2010 @ 1:30 am

   “Waitresses with singing voices that could bring tears to your eyes.” Amen.

   I have to disagree with the previous comment, as I feel quite the opposite of depressed reading this post. Rather, I feel inspired, and in a way relief; justified almost for where I’m at in life.

   My stage of feeling fucked up? Not knowing what the fuck I want to do with my life, and the frustrations it brings.

   Good read Kimber, consider yourself bookmarked.

4. Katrine Macfarlane
   March 27th, 2010 @ 2:01 am

   more humiliation than revelation, indeed. this is exactly what my day of teaching middle school was like. thank you for making me feel less alone in the struggle though, friend. i like having your words in my life…
   xo

5. Julia Smith
   March 27th, 2010 @ 4:30 am

   ‘they may have no room left in their basements for you to build a dream home’

   My mom’s basement is good enough for me, my husband, my dog and my film degree. And I’ve got 20 years head start!

6. PG
   March 27th, 2010 @ 6:15 pm

   “Perspective don’t come cheap and unfortunately doesn’t pay that much.” No kidding.

   I love that the first of the “possibly related posts” that WordPress offers is one entitled “On Hugs”, because this post make me need one – and provides it.

   Keep the words coming, Kimber.

7. rickrolling
   April 1st, 2010 @ 11:36 am

   it’s nice to hear well put words from a fellow brethren. i am mighty most definitely apart of this colony. time spent unemployed, driving forklifts or mixing drinks for the filthy rich while sleeping in a room with no furniture but a mattress on the floor has made me aware of this, even before reading this blog. here i am, in overcast england, working on the second degree which is supposed to get me a good job. a good job where i will undoubtedly make my bosses richer than i will ever be. a classmate said “you’ll never become wealthy working for someone else”. i am not sure if they meant spiritually or monetarily. probably the latter.
   i digress. i will be looking forward to reading more about the trials and tribulations of the 20 something white man living in hali.

8. Claire Reynolds
   April 2nd, 2010 @ 12:31 am

   Dear Michael Kimber,

   We at the Prosperous People Foundation have noticed you. We see potential. We will be in touch.

   Claire Reynolds
   Communications Director
   Prosperous People Foundation

9. H
   April 6th, 2010 @ 6:10 pm

   I hate blogs, but I like yours. I don’t read blogs, but I read yours. Your blog was depressing, and also inspiring. Keep it real and I might just read it again.

10. mohseyep
    April 12th, 2010 @ 11:30 pm

    I went batshit insane as soon as I left university. Much of what you write is golden, and shiny, even though its covered with shit. I can see the gold in the shit. I am myself a golden hero I constructed completely from a smoking pile of carcinogenic garbage.

    May you write your heart out, Kimber. Write until your blood stops pumping. Write until you’ve surrendered completely to the eternally inexpressible beauty and pain of direct experience. Write until you’ve had enough, given up, and started again and again because there isn’t anything else to do. May you learn to express the truth of your being in the world.
    Blessings.
    Blair F

11. Brian Kuchenmeister
    May 18th, 2010 @ 2:02 am

    Hello,this is Brian Kuchenmeister,just identified your Post on google and i must say this blog is great.may I share some of the writing found in your weblog to my local buddies?i’m not sure and what you think?in any case,Thank you!

12. Bec
    October 22nd, 2010 @ 9:04 pm

    I am glad I read this as I felt a huge sense of relief knowing that I am where I should be just like most people in our situation… no where. After reading that other blog and this very first one I will def be continuing on. Get at me sometime. E-mail is best, I am not on Facebook.
    Bec

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